


Luke Dunphy: Kleptomaniac

by LunaBeth



Category: Modern Family (TV)
Genre: Jello, M/M, Modern family - Freeform, Slow Build, Underage - Freeform, canned goods, conflicted feelings, luke is the best babysitter ever, story time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-04 21:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5349713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaBeth/pseuds/LunaBeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deciding to babysit might've been the weirdest decision of Luke’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was so random. i dont know how this came about but??? i liked the idea of Mitchell and Luke since their interaction is so rare so this came about.

10:48 pm.

It was an accident okay, a big freak accident that never would have happened if Haley hadn’t gone to that stupid Weezer concert. What kind of name is Weezer, anyway? Luke figured the band members probably had some real breathing problems or something. Whatever, because of these Weezers, he found himself in a terribly delicate condition. Bewildering to the point of no return.

  **Earlier that day**

12:01 pm.

You see, it all started at noon when Alex told her uncles she couldn’t babysit, not this particular weekend, at least. Finals were just around the corner for godsakes, she didn’t have time for family; which of course she managed to explain in much more courteous terms.

12:45 pm.

Mitch and Cam, adamant about sticking with their date night plans, went to Manny, a box of assorted macaroons in hand, hoping he didn’t care as much about finals as their genius niece did.

They found that, no, he didn’t. What he did care that much for was the San Francisco Modern Art Festival he bought tickets to over three months ago.

Manny started to apologize but stopped midway, a wide eyed smile suddenly appearing, “Hey, are those macaroons?” 

Mitchell stared at his nephew wordlessly.                                 

1:10 pm.

“But - what, we can’t just cancel, you know how important date night is. We can’t put it off again for the third time. Remember what we talked about, keeping the romance alive? You’re letting it die, Mitchell, wither and die. Is that what you want? It’s bad enough you didn’t build me my white house with blue shutters and a big porch surrounding the entire house so we can drink tea and watch the sunse-”

“Oh, enough! You honestly think I haven’t seen The Notebook?”

“Well considering how black your soul is, I figured -”

“All right, okay Cam.” Mitch nodded excessively, placing a reassuring hand on Cam’s arm, “We won’t cancel it. I promise.”

2:46 pm.

That brought them to the Dunphy house once more, with high hopes and a batch of Lily and Cam’s homemade snickerdoodles. Cam rang the doorbell, also making it a point to knock for six frenzied seconds. Luke answered the door, looked them up and down, took the plate of cookies and walked away without a word, allowing them to come in on their own.

Mitchell entered the house first, looking around for someone. Cam followed closely behind. What he found was a frantic Claire in the kitchen, packing canned goods into a suitcase.

“Hey sis, this a bad time? Sure looks like it is. It’s not everyday you pack canned corn next to your delicates.”

Claire looked up. “Mitchell,” A broad smile stretched across her face, the creepy smile she always gets when she’s screaming internally, “Turns out Phil slipped and sprained his ankle running that jello race in Palm Springs, as I so knowingly foresaw.” the chilling grin spread wider, unbelievably, "But hey, who listens to their wife nowadays anyway, right? Marriage.” she shook her head, chuckling.

Mitchell’s brows furrowed, “Still doesn’t explain why you’re packing canned vegetables into a suitcase.” he said, glancing over to Cameron wearing a puzzled expression.

“Jello?” Cam questioned under his breath.

Rolling his eyes, Mitchell went right to it, “Whatever, I don’t want the details. Look, we just came over here because honestly, we’re desperate.” He continued once he realized that no, apparently this wasn’t important enough to stop stuffing cans of yams into a luggage bag for at least ten seconds, “We can’t find anyone to babysit Lily and we really don’t want to put off date night for the second time.”

Cam interjected immediately, “Third time, Mitchell. See, this is exactly why we need tonight.” He huffed, sticking his chest out the way he always did when he was trying to make a point.

Claire finally chimed in, “Well, I’m going to be in Palm Springs tonight.” she stated reluctantly, “Did you ask Alex?”

That second Alex walked by with two books, one in each hand but seemingly reading both; though, that’s not the first thing Mitchell noticed. Cam actually cringed at the sight of the mop headed nest that was Alex’s hair. Mitchell wouldn't be surprised if he stuck his hand in there and took out a bird egg. They looked back at Claire, who then noticed her daughter, and pressed her lips together.

“Oh, right. Yeah, finals. Forgot...about that.” Claire muttered, patting her shirt down absently.

“Of course you did,” Alex said, leaving the kitchen and entering the living room, “I’ve only been studying for six consecutive days.”

Mitchell continued, “We asked Manny as well but he had an art festival and Gloria and Jay are taking Joe to Chinatown on their way back from dropping Manny off in San Francisco.”

Cam cut in, using a hand for emphasis, “I personally do not understand all the lanterns, it’s just excessive. I mean a handful are okay but everywhere, I mean, honestly, -”

“Cam.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s stick to the objective.” Mitchell turned back to Claire, “We were wondering,” He smiled, “Is Haley around this weekend by any chance?"

“Negative.” They all turned to face the new voice in the room. It was Luke next to the fridge, holding an empty plate, the one full of chewy cookies just four minutes ago. Cam’s mouth fell in dismay. He snatched the plate, watching Luke with wide eyes and a half open mouth, “Fourteen cookies. Fourteen.”

Claire went on, “She left to a concert, some weird guys. Whistlers or something.”

“It’s Weezers mom and they haveserious breathing issues, I don’t think they even can whistle.”

“Aw.” Claire gave a small pout, “that’s a little sad.”

Luke looked offended, “A little?”

Meanwhile, Mitchell looked to Cam, all out of options. What else could they do?

“Oh, I’ve got it!” Claire proclaimed much too loudly, “Luke can babysit Lily.”

Both Mitchell and Luke both blurted an equally loud “What” but Cam’s eyes lit right up.

“Yeah, why not?” Claire shrugged, zipping the vegetable luggage closed, “If Manny can do it, Luke can do it. He’s in highschool now, he’s more than capable. Plus, he’s shown to be more responsible lately, taking out of the trash the third time I tell him to instead of the sixteenth. Do you know what we had to go through to get to that point? I don't think you do, Mitchell.”

Mitchell pursed his lips, shaking his head.

She leaned towards her brother, whispering harshly, “A lot.”

“I’m kind of right here, you know.” Luke interjected.

Claire turned, facing her son, “Of course, sweetie. Tell your uncles you’re more than capable of taking care of your cousin Lily.”

“No, no,” Mitchell shook his head, walking around the kitchen counter to get to Luke. Reaching his nephew, he placed a soft hand on his shoulder, “I was wrong. You really have grown, Luke. We would be so grateful if you’d do the honor of taking care of Lily for us tonight, if that’s not too much to ask.”

Luke pressed his lips and nodded hesitantly, simply for the theatrics. In reality, he was excited. He realized a good while back what low expectations his family held for him. He was bummed about it for a bit before realizing low standards meant never disappointing anybody. But now, he couldn’t help but want to prove himself. Hearing his mom praise him was great but the warm hand of Uncle Mitchell oddly assured his confidence.

“Oh, my god, Luke.” Cam cried in joy, bringing Luke in for a hug he definitely wasn’t prepared for. “Don’t worry, there will be a fresh batch of snickerdoodles waiting for you on the kitchen counter. Oh, Lord,” Cam giggled, “I do sound like a darling housewife, don’t I?”

“Sometimes a little too often.” Claire murmured under her breath.

Cam shot her a glare she didn’t seem to catch up on.

And that was that.

6:03 pm.

Luke arrived with two giant Nerf guns in each hand.

Cam, standing beside the door, eyed him questioningly.

“What? Somebody’s gotta teach her how to shoot. It’s not like you two are gonna do it.” He said, raising his eyebrows and walking into the house.

Cam jerked his head to the side, “Point made.”

Mitchell walked in from the hall, slipping on one of his nicer black coats. “Lily just hopped in the shower, she should be out in ten minutes; if not, just knock to check. Cookies are on the table. Since it’s Friday she can stay up until 9:30, but absolutely no Adult Swim. No idea how she even found that channel.” He murmured, sliding an expensive looking watch onto his wrist, “No sweets after eight and she likes a story before bed, usually the Froggy’s, but don’t let her trick you into more than two. Very sly, that one.” Mitchell mused, grabbing the keys from the coffee table, “And...I think that’s it. Cam?”

Cam half smiled, “She’ll be fine, Mitchell. Our reservations, on the other hand, won’t be if we don’t leave in the next three minutes.”

Mitchell nodded, “Okay” he exhaled, catching Luke’s eyes. Luke noticed how blue Uncle Mitchell’s were in the golden light of their living room. He never really looked at his uncle up close, mostly because they don’t really see each other outside family get-togethers, “Again, thank you, Luke.” He smiled gratefully.

Luke reciprocated it. This was weird, being responsible. Usually, he halved the responsibility with Manny, or pretended to, both boys knowing full well who was really in charge. How hard could it be to take care of a kid anyway? He didn’t know, but it sorta felt good to be needed.

6:15 pm.

Luke used the back of his hand to wipe the cookie crumbs pasted around the sides of his mouth.

“Hey.”

Lily emerged from the hall, towel wrapped around her head. How does every girl know how to do that? At first he thought it was some special towels only girls would buy. Luke tried to do it once, he practically suffocated himself before Haley barged into the restroom, snatched her bejeweled towel away and kicked him out before he got the chance to actually pee.

Lily sat herself down on the couch, eyeing the bare plate on his lap.

“My daddies said you were supposed to share.”

“Your daddies lied to you.” He responded informatively. “But hey, look what I brought…” Luke grinned, reaching behind the sofa for the guns.

Lily’s eyes lit up with a devious sparkle once she saw them, “Get ready to die.”

Luke gulped but kept the grin anyway.

9:42 pm.

“Another!” Lily yelled, throwing the book on the floor.

“Listen, Thor, that was the third book. You’re going to sleep little lady. Plus, that was the most I’ve read since that mandatory Moby Dick assignment in seventh grade. I’m pretty sure my eyeballs are shaking.”

She pouted, “But I’m not sleepy. I need Dr. Snuffles.”

“Who’s that?”

“My friend. He’s a bear. He makes sure I don’t die during my sleep.” Lily said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Daddies say I don’t need him but I do. I lost him two days ago and I know they hid him, I know it!” she surmised.

“How did he even get his medical license with a name like that. Kind of ironic, right? I wouldn’t trust him.” Luke said, almost too seriously.

Lily rolled her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Luke assured her, deciding to be the best babysitter ever. “I’ll find him.” he concluded, standing from the chair he was on next to Lily’s bed frame.

Just before walking out the door, he turned back toward her, pointing, “And stay in bed.”

Lily stretched the covers over her head, “Okay.” she promised.

He walked to the living room, knowing it wouldn’t be in there, but unlike Alex with her brains or Haley with her cunningness, he needed a solid minute to think. The living room brought him comfort; it was the TV.

Thinking back, he remembered the times he hid things from the family.

That’s it, it’s gotta be there, he thought.

Luke, hesitating slightly, made his way towards his Uncles’ bedroom. He felt weird, a little criminal. It wasn’t like when he scoped through Haley and Alex’s room for dirt. Haley’s dirt specifically; Alex had no dirt, not even dust.

Walking in, he paused for a few seconds to take the room in.

Now, if I was a bear doctor, where would I be? Questioned Luke’s inner monologue.

He just needed to find the bear and he swore he would never enter this room again.

Under the bed? Nope. Under the bathroom sink? Nope. The closet? Nope. In the dresser? Nope.

"Hopeless." Luke grumbled.

He checked underneath the bed once more, this time crawling underneath the extremely long bed skirt. Knowing how deceitful the dark can be, he used the light from his phone to be extra sure, scanning the space.

Nothing.

“Ow.” Luke hissed, bumping his head on the bed frame as he moved to get out from below. He moved the bed skirt aside to make it easier but stopped when he felt something sticking out of the wood. Circular, small in size, hard.

Once he crawled out entirely, he lifted the bed skirt and came face to face with a knob. Luke grinned. Turns out beds can be pretty sneaky.

Feeling like he found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, Luke just knew.

He slid open the wooden drawer, half expecting a shiny gold light to beam out like the briefcase from Pulp Fiction.

It was like a grown up treasure box and not that exciting at that; but he found the bear, who didn’t even have a doctor’s coat. Luke scoffed, amatuer.

He picked it up, feeling accomplished he found it where he thought he would. He was about to go before noticing a small plastic stethoscope lying at the back of the drawer. “At least you have your equipment.” Luke mumbled, reaching for it. He pulled it out thoughtlessly, finding it heavier than he thought. Looking again, he found that not only did he pull out the stethoscope but a sick camcorder as well, entangled inside the scope. It looked a little aged, but still pretty cool. Luke had been wanting his own to record all the cool stuff that he did, including the stuff with his dad. He was tired of capturing everything with his phone and Claire didn’t let him use the family camcorder.

Remembering the bear, and Lily, he closed the bed frame drawer, slid the bed skirt back over it but left the camcorder on the bed.

“Lilyyy,” Luke called, dragging her name out in a sing-song voice. He entered her room once more, finding his little cousin with her back towards him. The closer he got, the more scared he got. What if she was right? She needed Doctor Sniffles, now it’s too late. He failed her! He got close, waving a hand above her nose.

He sighed in relief when a little breath of air hit his palm warmly. Asleep.

He tucked Doctor Sniffles securely under the covers next to her.

Well, he told himself after he closed the door softly behind him, that wasn’t too bad.

Then he remembered the camcorder.

Uncle Cam said they’d head back at ten-fifteen so they’d probably be here by ten-thirty.

Luke checked the time on his phone.

9:58 pm.

He figured there was no harm in playing with it for a little while. When he’s done he’ll just delete the videos he made and put it back safe and sound. Besides, he needed to test it a bit. It’ll help him decide if it’s really worth buying.

Walking back into his Uncles’ room didn’t feel as treacherous as the first time around, but still, he wouldn’t get used to it.

Grabbing the camcorder he quickly scurried out, deciding that if he was really going to this, it wasn’t going to be in there.

Luke flopped himself on the couch, stretching his feet onto the coffee table. He’s pretty sure Uncle Cam would be clutching his heart in agony if he saw Luke’s converse on his precious maple mahogany. Picturing that, Luke frowned to himself, lowering his feet before flipping the camera screen open.

He turned it on.

As soon as it loaded up, he pressed what he thought was the record button but was actually the playback button, displaying the last video taken on the device. All he had to do was press play to watch it.

He debated, eyeing the play button on the camcorder. He wondered what was on this thing. Probably endless videos of Lily or videos from their trip to Australia. Luke beamed. Maybe they recorded him doing something really cool, like that bellyflop he landed perfectly in the hotel pool, which he still felt from time to time. He had to check it out.

Except, it didn’t seem like this video was taken in Australia.

The video was paused on Uncle Mitchell, smirking into the camera lens. He was in what looked like a hotel room, sitting on a bed. The angle revealed that he was alone, holding the camcorder himself.

What really had Luke confused was how different he looked. Younger.

Okay, so this camera was older than he originally assumed.

Young Uncle Mitchell? How weird was this? Now, he had to check it out.

Moving his finger to press play he found his thumb had been covering the date: 7/24/09. Six years ago.

Okay, weird just got bumped up to super weird.

Luke wrapped both hands around the camcorder, allowing only the screen to be seen.

He pressed play.

_Mitchell’s smirk fluxed into a grin and then into a nervous glance, scanning the room as if he expected someone to barge in or something._

_Once it seemed safe, he turned back to the camera._

_“Hi, honey. I know you were really counting on me going with you to visit your family on the ranch this weekend,” he said, half pouting, “Trust me, being holed up here for a lawyer convention is the last thing I wanted.” Mitchell explained, “So, I thought, since I’m staying in for the night, why not make things a little fun. Spice things up, you know?” He smiled shyly._

Luke raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. Was he about to cook?

_“Here, let me - hold on,” Mitchell fumbled, the camera shifting every which way before becoming entirely still. He placed it on what was obviously a tripod, facing the bed and ultimately allowing a larger view of the room to be seen._

_Walking around, Mitchell sat himself on the center edge of the bed, looking right into the camera._

_“I’ve never done this before,” he expressed, wringing his hands and chuckling in embarrassment._

Luke’s face scrunched up, what the hell was he gonna do?

  _“Guess I’ll just…”_

And then Uncle Mitchell was taking off his shirt, revealing a chest decorated with hairs so light they were hardly visible, making it seem as if he barely had any at all; but, they were there, whirling around his chest like Van Gogh’s starry night swirls.

Luke’s eyes widened. He felt he knew where this was going now.

But he didn’t press stop.

His brain was shouting to. His conscience, actually, which incidentally, spoke in Claire’s voice.

He tried to move his fingers but his brain, unfortunately, was currently in other places.

_Mitchell hopped on the bed, backing himself up against the pillows and headboard. He didn’t set the tripod up too far so the quality of the video was still pretty firm._

_Smiling nervously at the camera once more, Mitchell began._

_He started by gliding a hand over his upper body, trailing it down delicately from his neck down the pale surface of his chest, eventually pausing over a nipple before grazing it softly. Then he squeezed, gently at first but then harder, twisting the tip slightly. Mitchell bit his lip, a streak of vigor lighting itself inside of him. He looked into the camera, his shyness slowly dissipating._

_Then he palmed his crotch over his pants, squeezing gently. Mitchell’s eyes fluttered closed, breath hitching momentarily._

Luke jumped up from where he was sitting in fluttered horror, tossing the camcorder on the couch instantaneously.

What the hell?

He gulped despite his mouth being drier than stale bread.

Deciding he needed to sit down before his knees gave out, he slowly hovered back to the couch, sitting as far away from the camcorder as possible. It was still on, he realized. He hadn’t bothered to press pause. Soft whimpers trailed the air in the living room.

Luke stared at camera nervously, averted his eyes, quickly looked back at it, then tore his glance away once more. His palms were sweaty, he noticed, rubbing them off on his jeans.

He just wanted to breath. All he could see was Uncle Mitchell, biting his lip..squeezing..the little gasp right before Luke jumped in shock from seeing his Uncle so bare..and delicate.

A shiver ran down his spine, spiking nerves in places that confused him just that much more.

He wasn’t repulsed as he knew he should’ve been. Luke may be a bit dense, but he knew right from wrong. This had to be wrong.

And yet.

Before realizing it, he was picking up the camcorder again.

_Mitchell was moving towards the edge of the bed once more, closer to the tripod. He looked into the camera almost like it was his lover and swiped his bottom lip with his tongue in a swift little motion, glistening them._

Luke’s lip twitched.

_Mitchell then hooked two thumbs into the belt loops of his pants and gradually slid them down, each second revealing more of his slender, pale legs. Soon enough, he was down to nothing but tight red briefs._

_“You know red,” Mitchell mused cheekily, “Definitely my color.”_

_He was half hard but gradually getting there._

_Mitchell let himself fall back onto the mattress, scooting his body in a horizontal position by the brink of the bed so the camera could catch him fully._

_Chest rising, he slid a hand inside the cotton material._

Luke wasn’t sure what came over him, but it rushed through his body like an fiery wave, engulfing anything and everything in its path, including any sense of moral.

So, believe it when he says he couldn’t stop himself when he unconsciousnessly slid a hand to his pants, feeling the slight tightness along the outside of his jeans while willfully ignoring the reality of his actions.

Luke found himself wanting, craving, except he didn’t know exactly what. If he wasn’t so transfixed, he’d be freaking out. But there was time for that later.

Right now, he was just waiting for what came next.

_Mitchell, feeling himself inside his briefs, took his sweet time, letting out soft, hearty moans to make the video that much more sensuous._

_ Finally feeling enough like a tease, he decided to give. Yanking the red barrier down and revealing himself. _

Luke didn't know he was holding his breath until it came out quick and heavy.

He finally knew what he wanted.

10:13 pm.

Giggling. The next sound was giggling. Familiar giggling. Outside the door.

Early, they were early, of all nights.

What happened next all occurred in a span of four seconds:

\- Panic, shooting through Luke’s veins like the time he was caught with six Playboys, all of them falling and toppling onto Claire from the top shelf of his closet the day she ruefully decided to clean it out.

\- A click of the lock.

\- Luke turning off the camcorder and stuffing it down the back of his pants in frenzy.

\- The doorknob twisting.

\- Luke rushing into the kitchen and leaning on the counter as casually as possible, desperately trying to catch a breath.

\- Mitch and Cam walking into their house to find their nephew hunched over their countertop with a cracked smile etched across his face.

Cam raised a concerned eyebrow, looking over to Mitchell.

“Luke,” Mitchell cocked his head slightly in confusion, “Honey, is everything okay?”

_Honey._

Nope, nothing was okay.

“Psh, yeah.” Luke quipped awfully too quickly, tone borderline defensive. “I - um, I gotta go. I forgot, I have to tuck Alex in. Helps her brain rest better. Finals.” He explained, concentrating on inanimate objects to avoid his Uncles’ eyes, specifically Mitchell’s, before scurrying to leave.

Finally outside, he leaned his upper back against the wooden door and exhaled.

10:36 pm.

Once he had arrived home he raced upstairs, not bothering to check in with anyone, aka Alex, the only person in the house, who probably wouldn’t take her eyes off those books even if Luke accidentally set himself on fire. It would be a slow and painful death but at least she’d ace the finals and he’d smell like roasted chicken.

As soon as he entered his room he closed the door behind him and reached for the camcorder digging into the back of his boxers. Luke held it in his hand, staring at it with shaken deer eyes for a good couple of dazed seconds before placing it on his covers. He bit the inside of his lip in distress before jumping onto the bed, covering his face with his hands and sighing heavily.

Now he was stuck with this camera, how the hell was he supposed to put it back in its original place without drawing attention? There was no way.

Then it dawned on him…

The bear. They’re gonna see the bear lying there and know.

Lily had no possible clue about that drawer. They’re going to look in there, see the missing camcorder and just know.

That wasn’t even the worst part.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Uncle Mitchell. Ever since he saw that video, goosebumps had found their way onto his arms and haven’t yet left his skin. This whole thing scared him, definitely, but mostly, it just dazed him.

He’s never been so muddled.

Luke felt his brain shouting, even cursing, but inside his mind it was barely audible, coming across more as white noise.

All Luke could do was see.

That gasp. Those light strawberry hairs. The way his mouth quivered in pleasure whenever he touched himself. The noise he made whenever a spot was a little too much. His chest, how it rose with every deep breath of pleasure he took. Cock, beading with precome; unveiling to be much more than Luke ever expected.

It was absolutely insane yet his body reacted so animatedly.

Before thinking twice, he pulled his jeans off quickly along with his shirt, throwing them across the room and leaving him in simple, light green boxers. He then grabbed for the camcorder, flipping the screen over.

He decided if he was going to do this, he might as well commit.

Pressing playback once more he was directed to where he was before he was spontaneously interrupted.

This time, there was no hesitance. Luke pressed play, still weak from the fact that Mitchell was already exposed and ready as if waiting for him...

Luke unconsciously pulled himself out of his boxers, eyes falling shut in satisfaction at the overdue touch. He watched, holding the camcorder with one hand and himself in the other and followed Mitchell’s lead, tracing his thumb over the head of his dick and sliding a nail inside the small slit briefly. This was certainly a learning experience, if anything. He’d touched himself before, but it never felt like this. Watching, Luke focused, tongue sliding along his bottom lip as he watched in awe, Mitchell writhing on the hotel bed. It was certainly a sight: frail, gasping,  stretching his mouth more and more as he quickened his pace. Luke just wondered what it’d be like to be the one eliciting these sounds from Mitchell, to be able to see him break apart in front of Luke’s very eyes and know it was because of him...He’d taste every part of him, get him to moan so loud Luke would have to cover his mouth with a firm hand and even then...

Eventually he felt the familiar build up in his lower abdomen. Quickening his pace, he groaned, wanting to feel everything as much as he could.

Soon, it was all too much. Luke was moaning softly, warm come dripping onto his hand, he smiled in ecstasy, never knowing it could feel like this.

He took a long breath, wiping himself off with one of the many tissues he kept under his sheets for times like these.

Despite all that’s happened, it must be stated crystal and clear that he had no intention of things turning out the way they did.

He didn’t mean to take the camcorder, didn’t mean to invade his Uncle’s privacy like that, didn’t mean to eat all the cookies, either…it just...happened.

Luke yawned.

Wow, he thought, orgasms really take it out of you.

Drowsiness was slowly overtaking him. Stretching himself out, he bumped his left arm into something.

The camcorder.

Luke groaned in exasperation, grabbing the camera and stuffing it as far back underneath his pillow as possible.

He cocked his head to the side, checking the time on his alarm clock.

10:48 pm.

God, what the hell was he gonna do?

It was an accident okay, a big freak accident that never would have happened if Haley hadn’t gone to that stupid Weezer concert. What kind of name is Weezer, anyway? Luke figured the band members probably had some real breathing problems or something. Whatever, because of these Weezers, he found himself in a terribly delicate condition. Bewildering to the point of no return.

(Okay so it wasn’t Haley’s fault directly but blaming her felt like the natural thing to do.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't own any characters from Modern Family)
> 
> God, okay. Still don't know what any of this is... 
> 
> ENjoY...

The next morning his mom and dad were back home before he even woke up. Claire was frying in the kitchen and Phil, lying in the living room, ice packs taped around his ankle.

Luke made sure the camcorder was hidden and safe before heading downstairs, deciding to stuff it inside one of his old shoes - no one would  _ ever _ look for anything in there. 

He walked into the living room first.

“Dad.” Luke didn’t like to see his dad in pain, but he did warn him, or at least told him to eat his way through the jello, “I see you didn’t take my advice.”

“Oh, buddy,” Phil sighed, shaking his head, “There was just so much...and the flavors; strawberry, kiwi, cherry, pineapple and it wasn’t just fruit -  _ kale  _ jello. There was no possible way I could’ve eaten my way through, at least not without any internal bleeding.”

“Not with that attitude.” Luke shot, not waiting for a response. He smelt bacon.

Roaming into the kitchen, he found Alex, engrossed in her text books, of course; at least she was at the table. Being there, even if she wasn’t really there. He pictured chopping her hair off, contemplating it for a second; she wouldn’t notice it gone until after finals, anyway. Luke sat down next to her, snagging a toast from the untouched pile and pouring himself some orange juice.

He tried his hardest to seem at ease. Inside, he was ticking. Not like a bomb, more like a really loud, annoying clock. And his leg was shaking. He looked down at it, mentally yelling at his body to stop. He would figure this out, he just needed time.

“So,” Claire began, startling him, “How’d it go with Lily last night, sweetie?” she asked, sliding three strips of bacon onto his plate. Next, her famous cheddar parsley eggs.

Luke gave it a second, remembering a good front always meant keeping composure. That was the number one rule. (Sometimes, he really thought Haley was the genius.)

“Good.” He nodded, mind instantly flooding with images of Mitchell arching his back, groaning into his pillow, “We watched the Sixth Sense. Did you know that kid could see dead people?” Luke marveled, “Talk about a twist.”

Claire raised her eyebrows, opening her mouth but deciding not saying anything. Instead, she just nodded, taking a seat in the chair opposite of him.

“You ready for grampa’s today?”

Mouth stuffed with eggs, he wrinkled his brows, “Huh?”

“It’s Saturday, Luke. Pool party Saturdays. You know how sensitive your grandpa is about that stuff. Now, he’d never admit it but trust me - he needs you guys there. That means you too, Alex. You can study in the jacuzzi.” She suggested, going to pat her daughter’s hair but cringing it back last minute once she saw how it looked. Alex shot her a face.

“Is Lily going?” Luke asked, sounding as casual as possible.

“What, you two are best friends now or what?”

“Yeah.” he shrugged, “She gets me.”

Claire smiled, not able to tell whether his response was genuine.

“Oh, well, she should be there.” She said, nodding a finger at him with her fork.

“Great, thanks.” Luke said in a rushed tone, hurrying out of his seat without so much as bothering to finish his bacon.

Claire snatched it off his plate, biting most of the strip off before glancing to her daughter’s plate, completely untouched. She gave it a disgruntled look, before snatching the bacon off her plate as well.

 

~

 

He insisted on going early to quote unquote ‘help Manny clean out the pool’.

Claire would never say no to her son helping out, even if she found it strangely out of the blue.

Luke decided to ride his skateboard there, craving the thrill of the wind on his back. Grabbing it from under his bed and double checking the camcorder’s security, he was out of the house in seconds.

Hoping atop his board, taking only a few seconds to gain momentum, any other person would think nothing was going on inside that skull of his. But really, everything inside felt so raw and shaken up. He didn’t want to deal with this, at all, but mostly he just didn’t think he’d be able to face Uncle Mitchell, let alone sit in the same room as him. Even thinking about it made his hands sweat. He didn’t know what he wanted, not exactly okay and frankly, he was a little afraid to find out. This was all too weird and trying to figure it out just hurt his brain and ached his body. 

He liked girls, first of all. Alright, sometimes he’d look at a guy and think ‘hey, I wouldn’t mind being wined and dined by him’ but what the hell did that mean? Just because you admit someone’s attractive doesn’t mean you’re gay. He liked girls, usually. Ordinarily, people that  _ weren’t _ related to him. And that there was his biggest issue. Even if he somehow decided he was into dudes, that was something he wasn’t actually worried about; his father taught him enough to know he should never be ashamed of who he was and though he never actually excluded incest from that lecture of self-acceptance, Luke figured he wouldn’t exactly welcome it with open arms. Because, no, it’s not normal to want to lay your uncle gently down onto a bed and suck his cock so eagerly, so messily it ends with him moaning your name so loud the whole damn neighbourhood memorizes it. No, that wasn’t something that’d ever be accepted. 

So, there, he was a freak. But that’s okay, because he would never mention this fantasy to anyone for as long as he lived.

He just needed a bit of time to figure out how he was going to confront this, the other part of this. He hoped on cornering Lily, asking her what happened so he knew what to expect.

Except, he was already expecting something. He knew his Uncles had probably already seen the bear once they woke Lily up, which meant they probably checked the drawer, which meant they already knew the camera was missing. _Which_ _meant_ , Luke just needed a story. No problem, he’s had to come up with stories before, albeit most of them terribly plot holed.

Finally, he decided to incorporate as much as the truth as possible. Otherwise, he’d most likely just get confused and dig himself even deeper. He resolved on telling them he was just helping Lily find the bear (which was true) when he came along the camcorder and took it...because he wanted to see how it worked (also true) but then he forgot all about stuffing it in his back pocket...he’d say he didn’t even turn it on. Yeah...that should work.

Breezing through the sidewalk, everything was blurry. He was two minutes away from Grandpa and Gloria’s. He wanted this extra time to prepare himself for what was going to happen, sunbathe a little, find a way to avoid Mitch and Cam respectfully, eat all the potato chips, sunbathe a little more.

Rearing up the corner, he noticed the cars in the driveway.

Spotting the familiar gray car, his eyes widened. They were always late and now they were early,  _ again _ . Oh god, they wanted to corner him. They must have told everyone - they all know (probably not about the tape but definitely the stealing part). He’d be branded the thief of the family. His mind raced, maybe there was still time to back out of this. He turned around, getting ready to make a run for it.

“Luke!”

Luke grimaced, afraid to turn around. It was too late.

He turned, spotting Manny waving at him from the window in his room. Curse his spectacular vision.

Waving back, he figured it’d be best to just get it over with. He entered the house, door unlocked, and was greeted by a long faced Stella.

“You and me both.” Luke muttered, taking a second to pet her.

He poked his head around the living room, not finding anyone. Okay, so they’re all in the backyard already, okay. That should serve as a good distraction, Luke can just wait it out as long as possible in Manny’s room. Maybe throw up a little to derail it even more.

“Hey,” It was Manny, voice trailing down the stairs, “Listen, I have to talk to you, I met the most amazing girl - no, what am I saying -  _ woman _ , at the art festival. Julie Henderson.” Manny chimed dreamily.

Luke covered Manny’s mouth with a sloppy hand, freaking the other boy out sufficiently, “What are you doing?” He yelled into Luke's palm, words muffled and partly incoherent. Luke shushed him, indicating with a hand motion for Manny to follow him before roughly making his way up the stairs in a matter of seconds. He rushed into Manny’s room towards the window overlooking the backyard, crouching down.

“What is the matter with you, that was borderline assault, Luke Dunphy.” he said distastefully, wiping his mouth with one swipe.

“Luke Dunphy isn’t here right now.” Luke replied, busy assessing the image below.

Gloria and Cam, sunbathing. Jay, grilling burgers and toasting sesame buns. Lily, climbing out of the pool and Mitchell, playing with Joe on one of the lawn chairs. They didn’t seem angry...or in any way bothered. Hm. He tried not to stare too long at the fact that Mitchell was wearing a black v-neck that certainly caught Luke’s attention a little too long. He shuddered internally, forcing himself to look away.

“Is this another roleplay? Look, I’m fine with it, I just don’t want to be stuck without any lines again. Especially since we all know who the real thespian in this family is. I think it’s time for some well deserved recognition.”

Luke rolled his eyes, “It’s not a roleplay. I was just checking -”

“I knew you were here. My spidey senses were tingling.” Both the boys turned, finding a dripping Lily, wrapped in a towel and standing in the doorway. 

“Really?”

“No. You left your skateboard lying in the living room.”

Manny turned to face him swiftly, “Not on the Persian rug, right? I custom ordered that, you know.”

Luke, ignoring Manny, eyed her with desperation, grabbing hold of her cold little shoulders, “Lily, what happened to Doctor Snuffles?”

“He’s hiding in the closet. I wasn’t gonna let them take him again. He already needs tons of therapy.”

Luke stared at her, wide eyed, before breaking out in a long grin. They didn’t know. There was no way  _ to  _ know. They  _ didn’t _ know, that’s all that mattered.

“Lily, you’re amazing!” Luke blurted, embracing her thoughtlessly. “And wet.” he added, letting go of her.

“No, duh.” she sassed, turning to leave. Reaching for the doorknob, she stopped and looked back. “I fell asleep before I could say thanks.” She said with a straight face. “So, thanks.”

Luke smiled at her. He was totally the best babysitter ever.

As soon as the door shut, Luke realized Manny was staring at him.

“What was all that ab-”

“Remember that system we came up with where whenever one of us gets in trouble we each get three favors to cash in to bail them out, no questions asked?”

Manny’s eyebrows narrowed, “We all know that system was built specifically for you.”

“Yeah, well it’s built and I’m cashing in.” He said, “No. Questions. Asked.”

Manny pressed his lips together. “Fine.”

“Alright,” Luke grinned, suddenly fearless again, “I need you to help me put something back where it came from.”

“Please, tell me it’s not another alpaca.”

 

He was still nervous about having to face his Uncles. Even if they had no clue what he had done, Luke knew exactly what happened, and that was enough to haunt him. But he couldn’t hide in Manny’s room forever. Besides, his skateboard was enough evidence of his presence. 

He had told Manny the bare minimum, just the basic fact that he needed to get a camera back to Uncle Cam and Mitchell’s room. There were a few questioning looks but Manny managed to hold his tongue pretty well. He agreed to help, doing good on his word. They’d figure out the details later.

He tried stalling as much as he could but inevitably was dragged downstairs by a famished Manny. 

Luke would just avoid eye contact at all costs and stick to the opposite side of wherever Mitchell was at all times. Yeah...he could do this. Maybe.

They shuffled downstairs with Manny’s empty stomach and Luke’s half-full one.

Manny quirked his head to face Luke as they reached the bottom step, “Anyway, as I was saying: _ Julie Henderson _ .” he marveled. “She was standing there, wind blowing through that beautiful -”

“Oh, hey, there you are.”

Kill Bill sirens went off in Luke’s head.

Meanwhile, Manny raised his arms in defeat, accepting he may never be able to tell his perfect love story, but Luke was too busy panicking at the all too familiar voice to notice.

Mitchell was making his way towards them. 

Luke’s mouth was suddenly parched and his hands were heating up. He looked down, but remembered he had to act normal, picking his head up and forcing a smile onto his face.

There he was, his uncle, right in front of him when just less than fourteen hours ago Luke was jacking off to a video of him pleasuring himself on a hotel bed. Luke’s brain was going haywire. 

_ Is he looking at me? I’m pretty sure he’s looking at me. _

He tried to focus but couldn’t see anything other than how tight Mitchell’s short black sleeves wrapped around his arms. Luke’s eyes darted to the lamp in the corner, the Persian rug that really wasn’t _ that _ pretty, and his own dirty shoes before unnervingly settling on his cousin next to him.

Everything was suddenly moving in slow motion. Mitchell’s hand coming from behind, settling on Luke’s shoulder blade. Manny, having enough and migrating to the backyard, leaving Luke standing utterly defenseless. 

“Luke?”

“Huh?”

“I said Lily told me you were here.” Mitchell informed, moving his hand, “I was just wondering if we could talk. You stormed out so fast last night, didn’t get a chance to really get a word in.”

_ Oh god, he knows, he knows.  _

Luke breathed in, lungs feeling like they were shrinking.

_ No, he can’t...he couldn’t possibly know. _

He wanted to scream, push his uncle out of the way as nicely as possible and get the hell right out of there. But, you can’t run from family.

Instead, Luke simply nodded, following Mitchell into the living room.

He steadied himself on the couch, keeping solid eyes on the coffee table and nowhere near the man taking a seat next to him. He  _ can’t _ allow his mind to drift, despite how truly hard it is to get a hold of his thoughts. The fact that Mitchell was sitting a mere inches away. The fact that Luke now knows exactly how he looks at his most bare and intoxicating.

“First of all,” Mitchell began, “I wanted to thank you once again for taking care of Lily last night, it was very sweet of you to give up your Friday night for us.”

Luke smiled stiffly, responding, “It’s okay. Didn’t really have anything planned, usually just watch Die Hard and clear out the fridge.”

Mitchell nodded, clasping his hands together and going on, “Well, still, means a lot. Second, me and Cam were talking and realized how right your mom is. You certainly are maturing.” Mitchell acknowledged, trying to meet Luke’s eyes, “You’re almost all grown up, practically a man, which then made me realize how little we actually know each other.” he stated.

Luke finally mustered up the nerve to look at his Mitchell’s face, really look at it. Once again, the first thing he took in were those piercing blue eyes. Then all the accommodating features constructing his face. 

His thoughts trailed back to his uncle’s words. Where was this going?

Mitchell quirked his head to the side, “I’m close with your sisters, Manny too, but I feel like we don’t have much history, Luke, and that's completely unacceptable. I mean, I know we may not exactly have too many things in common and maybe I’m not the most ideal person you’d want to hang around but, hey, I can be fun.” he said, leaning in.

Luke was sweating, he was totally sweating.

“Which leads me to my next point, how would you like to spend the afternoon with your good old Uncle Mitchell?” he proposed. “We can do whatever you want. Mall, movie, laser bowling, anything.”

Luke’s inner four year old couldn’t help but heighten his ears at that. “Anything?” he repeated.

Mitchell, simply happy he was able to intrigue the boy, nodded, trying to pull off the ‘laid back’ expression. “Now, I don’t think I’ll be available tomorrow and I’m working all week, but next Friday night, if you aren’t too busy with Bruce Willis, Cam can take Lily to the movies and we can have a boys night out.” he suggested, “What do you say?”

Before he realized it, words were spilling out of his mouth. “Paintball shooting?”

Mitchell’s eyebrows heightened, remembering the very first time his father had dragged him paintballing. It was a dreadful afternoon, resulting in him peeling paint off his skin for days. But then he noticed Luke’s enthusiastic eyes and couldn’t help but give in, “Fine, fine, but go easy on me, alright, that place isn’t exactly my forte.”

 

~

 

Luke thought his uncle would forget, or cancel, as Mitchell so often did. At times, a feeling would rush through Luke, a sort of skittish hesitance, and he’d truly hope Mitchell would somehow cancel, raincheck even. But, he didn’t. He even called Thursday night to make sure the next day was set in stone. Luke had kept his words brief and formal-like, though he’d spent the week secretly reveling in the idea of Mitchell in every which way, ways that weren’t brief or formal at all. Ways that left Luke spinning in torn confusion. 

Usually, he never had many thoughts to decipher but ever since that camcorder came into his life, his wiring was all jacked up. Although he still felt uneasy with the thing hidden right there in his room, he wasn’t primarily worried over that situation, at least not any more. At school, Manny had mentioned to Luke a way to get the camera back safe and sound. Apparently, Tuesday afternoons between three and six, Mitch and Cam’s place was empty, with Mitchell working late and Cam busy with football and taking Lily to her piano practice. Unfortunately, Manny informed him of this on Wednesday, forcing Luke to wait until next Tuesday.

Still, even with that solved, he was nonetheless trying to piece himself up. He tried his hardest to erase the video from his memory but found himself not being able to last a good five minutes without thinking about it. He felt shame, lust, guilt, a dreaded longing, sometimes all of those things in a sudden rush of intensity. He wanted Mitchell but the thought freaking terrified him, ultimately leaving him more jittery as the final weekday rode closer.

The days leading up to it zoomed by so quickly, it was unreal. Luke put most of his effort into seeming at ease, which he did a pretty good job of doing. Claire still yelled at him to pick his dirty socks off the floor. Haley still flicked his nose whenever he tried to steal food off her plate. Alex still lectured him about using the oven correctly unless he planned on blowing the house up. The usual stuff.

Soon enough, though, it was Friday.

 

~

 

Luke, ultimately more nervous than excited, rang the bell. 

Here goes.

Mitchell came to the door just seconds after it chimed, sporting a regular dark blue cotton sweater with black pants. Luke made sure not to keep his eyes on him for too long.

His uncle waved him inside, gracing him with a side hug Luke let himself lean into before leading him into the kitchen.

“So, I did manage to find a paintball arena about twenty five minutes away.” he said, pouring Luke a glass of orange juice and a water for himself. “Apparently, they also have night vision paintballing for when it gets dark if that sounds more interesting to you.”

Normally, Luke would’ve jumped out of his seat hearing such a thing existed. But he was busy eyeing the creases in Mitchell’s pants, how they curved along his legs. The legs that’ve been on Luke’s mind every since he’d pressed play last Friday night.

Mitchell, closing the fridge, turned back to Luke, water and juice in each hand. He handed him his glass. 

“Thanks.” Luke gave a nod, downing it in two big gulps and setting it down roughly on the kitchen table as if he’d taken a shot of tequila. Mitchell sat himself down across from his nephew.

“Hit me again.” Luke said hastily.

Mitchell reached for the juice carton he left on the counter, “Slow down there, cowboy.” he mused, humoring Luke.

“So,” he began, filling his nephew’s glass once more, “Dinner, then paintballing? How’s that sound?”

“Like a Friday night.”

 

It was a burger joint, relatively small with a homey feel and hard to find if you don’t make it a point to look. Also,  _ great  _ burgers. A place he never thought his uncle would know about.

Luke shot an impressed look at Mitchell as he parked along the curb. 

Mitchell, sensing his eyes, caught the glance. “What?” he shrugged, “It’s not always fancy garlic fries and bread rolls, you know.”

They sat themselves next to a painting of a pin up girl hugging a life sized bottle of ketchup.

The menu was one laminated sheet consisting of only five choices, each a different styled burger. Mitchell ordered the mushroom swiss and Luke, the avocado bacon. 

Luke shifted in his chair. This all felt so new. Like he was having dinner with someone he hardly knew. It wasn’t Mitchell’s fault, they’ve just never made the time for each other and now, well, what an interesting time to start. Luke had thought over what he was planning on saying, knowing his uncle would like to get to know him better. But what was there to say? He liked stuffing his face with junk, setting stuff on fire and watching videos of people getting pranked. There wasn’t much depth, really; though, he did have his moments.

Luke, grabbing the soda brought by their waitress, chased the straw around with his tongue aimlessly before catching it, sipping Dr. Pepper joyfully.

Mitchell, sliding his lemonade closer but not drinking any, rested his elbows on the table. “So, how’s high school?” He asked, starting conversation, “Everything you ever imagined?”

“Kinda,” Luke debated, thinking about it, “There’s this dance my mom’s trying to force me to go to. She’s kinda bummed I haven’t gone to any of them since school started.” Luke confessed, remembering the argument with Claire crisply. It was more a pleading debate than anything. Claire was sensitive over the fact that Luke just didn’t care about dances.

Mitchell wrapped his lips around his own straw, an image Luke was sure to remember later, and muttered his next question before taking a long sip of his lemonade,“Why don’t you want to go?”

Luke, fingers playing with the crumpled sleeve of his straw, gave that one little thought. “I don’t know. Lame, I guess.”

“Oh, okay, mister cool.”

Luke smiled at his uncle’s attempt to tease him, “You went to dances when you were in school?”

Mitchell quirked his head to the side, squinting his eyes in faint remembrance, “Not exactly.”

“See, we’re both too cool for school.”

Mitchell half smiled, “You’re probably right.”

Even if the food happened to take a little longer than expected, they didn’t seem to notice.

Luke had to admit, this night was turning out smoother than he ever expected, his tension dimming as the evening drew on. They talked, consisting mostly of Mitchell asking him stuff, which he answered, starting with the basics - the favorites: food, color, candy, movie. Luke asked him some back, the questions becoming more intricate as they went along, allowing them to dive into stories about themselves. Stories that found Luke more intrigued with Mitchell by the second, which he sincerely hoped wasn’t all due to a certain camcorder he happened to get his hands on.

Okay, his uncle could be a bit of a nag with a slight diva complex but that was just the surface. Luke was getting to know the Mitchell under all that. The Mitchell that may be frilly, but also bold, Luke concluded, after Mitchell recounted the time he was in highschool, when one of the douchebag football players desired a relationship on the sole condition of never being seen in public together. Once Mitchell found he was to be a dirty little secret, and only that, he played along, asking the guy to meet him under the bleachers for one of their usual make out sessions. Once there, Mitchell, wasting no time, leaned in, pausing just before their lips touched. He took a second to let confusion set in before kneeing him as hard as he could, right in the delicates. Let’s just say, Ryan didn’t go to football practice for two days. And to top it all off, Mitchell had even managed to slip a very questionable photo of them together and use it as leverage to keep any thought of retaliation at bay. Luke’s uncle was a total badass.

There were so many other things, too. Like how Mitchell used to sprinkle itching powder on Claire’s hairbrush (which was completely confidential and was to remain that way) causing her to believe she had lice and frantically brush out her hair for hours straight, resulting in an utter frustration that soon found her in a salon chair, hair chin length, because she just couldn’t take it anymore (He swears, he didn’t mean for it to go that far, but the viciously determined glint in his sister’s eyes when they entered the salon was too much for his poor soul).

Luke found out a lot of things; The fact that Mitchell actually kind of liked Tarantino movies, contrary to all the years he’s spent insisting otherwise; What his favorite color was: a subtle lilac, or as Luke liked to call, purple. It was like they were on a first date, revealing more of themselves as they warmed up to each other.

Luke told him about the time he accidentally ate Alex’s eighth grade science project. In his defense, he thought the purple foaming liquid was a new flavored kool-aide; irresistible, obviously. That was the first of many stomach pumps. He told him about the school play he was casted into in seventh grade. Beauty and the Beast, Luke playing the beast. Mitchell gawked at that one. Luke had made Manny keep it a secret. He didn’t want Claire thinking it was more than a one time thing. Truthfully, he told his uncle, he kind of liked it. And when Mitchell asked him about his love life, if he had a special someone, Luke could suddenly hear his pulse pumping, gaze settling on the salt and pepper shakers. He told him he’d made quite a few attempts at getting girls’ attention but proved not skilled at it. Mitchell told him there was someone out there, waiting for him. Luke just stared at his uncle’s face, taking in as many features as he could; his freckles, the soft crinkles tracing his forehead, the lines of his lips, all while Mitchell busily drizzled more ketchup onto his fries.

Their time flew by. Luke stuffed his mouth with as many fries as he possibly could at one time, drawing a couple glances. Mitchell, easing up a little himself, even managed to ignore the marble sized ketchup stain on his sweater after Luke told him not to be afraid of the burger and all of its love juices (he actually called it that, yes) but to be one with it.

“So, tell me,” Mitchell began, “if you liked starring in Beauty in the Beast, why’d you keep it a secret?” he questioned, biting the tip of a fry.

“Manny knew about it.”

“You know what I mean.”

Luke did. He just didn’t want to talk about it. He settled on a shrug.

“C’mon. I would have gone. That’s one of my favorites, you know?”

Luke’s shook his head, “What are you talking about, it’s all about Snow White. The chick talked to animals and had seven slaves.”

“Slaves, really? Belle talked to household objects, now that’s something. Cam only wishes he could talk to that mahagony table of ours. Now, this discussion ends here considering everybody knows Ariel’s the best. She’s half fish, doesn’t get much better than that.”

“She should feel lucky. If mermaid anatomy were reverse she’d have legs and a fish head instead. Where would she be then? Not combing her hair with a fork, that’s for sure.”

Mitchell thought his nephew was slightly odd, but it brought out a side of him he hasn’t appealed to in years.

Near the last of his fries, Luke noticed a dab of mayo coloring the corner of Mitchell’s bottom lip. Luke first pictured licking it off, shutting the thought away in a nervous instant. Then, he saw himself leaning in and wiping it off slowly with his thumb. He shut that thought away too. 

He pressed his lips together before settling with, as casually as he could, “You got a little -” finishing with a hand motion towards his lip, indicating to Mitchell he had something on his own.

“Oh,” he said, “Thanks.” before swiping it off with a crumpled napkin.

Soon, their plates were empty and their stomachs, stuffed like turkeys. Luke exhaled in satisfaction after swallowing the last of his burger. Cleaning the corners of his mouth with his own napkin, he leaned back against the red chair he was sitting on.

Minutes later, the check was placed promptly at the edge of the table by their waitress. Mitchell opened it, glancing at the numbers before digging into his back pocket.

His brows furrowed, finding nothing.

He dug his hand into the rest of his pockets hastily, finding more nothing. Then he suddenly remembered.

Mitchell let out a huff, looking about the room before fixing his eyes on Luke who was busy sliding a toothpick into his mouth.

“Psst.”

Luke glanced up, curious glint flickering in his brown eyes. Mitchell thought they were big and soft, too much like puppy eyes.

His nephew leaned in, instinctively grasping the secrecy of their next word exchange.

“Yeah?”

“We have a problem.” Mitchell murmured under his breath.

They really did have a problem. Mitchell had forgotten his wallet on his nightstand, naturally. The man that always made it a point to double, sometimes triple check that he had everything on him, forgot his wallet. On top of that, they were already a good drive out, much closer to the paintball arena than the house.

“I sort of maybe forgot my wallet at home.” Mitchell admitted.

Luke, acknowledging this predicament, scanned the room before locking a determined look on his uncle. He leaned a little more, feeling very Mission Impossible.

“Alright,” he said with an authoritative tone, “On three, okay?” Body shifting towards the door.

Mitchell’s eyes widened, picking up what Luke was putting down, “Are you insane?” he whispered harshly.

“A little, yeah.” Luke nodded.

“We can’t just  _ not _ pay.” he said, as if the idea itself was downright insulting.

“'Course we can. It’s easy, we just count to three...and run.” Luke explained, not understanding what was so incomprehensible about the plan.

Mitchell scanned the room for any uneasy stares, not finding any. He could already feel the prison jumpsuit fabric scratching his skin.

He knew he was exaggerating, but, still; it felt good to.

Luke, summoning what little courage he had, nudged Mitchell’s hand with his, yanking his uncle out of his thoughts. “On three.” he repeated, getting into what weird a moment this was.

Mitchell looked at his nephew’s resolved expression and shut his eyes, “Fine, fine” he sighed, “Okay.”

Luke beamed, not believing his ears.

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay!”

Luke grinned.

Mitchell always did wonder what it was like to be a criminal.

All those years of law school were leading up to this one moment.

 

It sure was a moment, too.

They bolted out of there so quickly, Mitchell was sure no one had even turned around.

Luke didn’t leave him in the dust, either. Right on three, either consciously or unconsciously, he grabbed Mitchell with a hasty hand and diner dashed right out the door.

Mitchell’s heart was pounding. 

Luke felt the wind whirling around him as they raced to his uncle’s car; it was heavenly.

They both took a second to breathe before Mitchell started the engine and drove off, not caring to figure out just where, considering the zero dollars they shared between them.

Mitchell gripped the wheel tightly as he made a turn. “That,” he breathed, “Was exhilarating. Who knew being bad could feel so good?”

Luke chuckled, settling back against the car seat. “You do know we can’t ever go back now, right?” he mentioned.

“Oh, who cares. There’s enough burger restaurants around here to form an island.”

“That I’d live on.”

“You know, seeing how familiar you are with the dine ‘n dash code makes me wonder how many restaurants you’re banned from.” Mitchell joked.

“I have the list somewhere.” he answered nonchalantly, “Where are we going?” he asked, staring out the window at the many trees they passed.

“Hold on, we’re almost there. Looks like we’re gonna have to rain check on paintballing.” Mitchell replied, shooting a quick apologetic glance at his nephew.

Luke caught it, “It’s okay. This is fun.” he admitted cooly.

They stopped at what appeared to be a lonely lot connected to an old park next to some very large forest like mountains. 

Luke stretched out of the car, closing the door with a push of his hip. Looking around, he noted how deserted it was. 

“This is.. nice.”

“This is a very special place and you’re about to find out why,” Mitchell began walking towards the mountains, “Come on.”

They stopped at a giant rock with an cliff on the upper edge of it; kind of similar to the Lion King, Luke thought. Mitchell began climbing the smaller surrounding rocks to get to the top. Luke eyed his uncle momentarily before following.

It only took a few seconds to climb up, the height wasn’t as dreadfully high as it looked from the bottom but it was the view that surprised him. The trees ruffled together against the wind, the moon bold and bright, the sky’s night light. 

Sitting himself on the edge, Mitchell turned to Luke and patted the spot next to him. Luke sat, willing himself to sit a little closer than usual.

“Your grandpa used to bring me and your mom here when we were little, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. A lot, actually.” Mitchell half smiled, reminiscing, “By then grandma would be tipsy enough to knock the furniture over. But that there is another story.”

“So why’s this place so special?” Luke asked.

“Well, it just so happens that right on this very rock thirty three years ago, I broke my leg. Well, not exactly  _ on _ this rock, rather, falling off it.”

Luke couldn’t help but laugh a little at the mental image.

“Hey,” Mitchell warned him, playfully shoving him with a shoulder. “Falling is actually a terrible way to put it. I was pushed off by your malicious mother.”

“No way,” Luke burst, laughing wholeheartedly this time. His mother had always mentioned details about the childhood feud with her brother but never mentioned  _ breaking _ his leg.

“Oh, it’s very true. Your mother was…”

“Crazy? Yeah, that’s still going pretty strong.”

It was Mitchell’s turn to laugh.

“Be nice. Inside, she’s gooey caramel and candy corn.”

A shiver shook through Luke, which was weird because it was hardly cold out, just a soft breeze that caressed his cheeks like Haley’s satin blanket he ‘borrowed’ whenever he watched a scary movie. 

“Uncle Mitchell?”

Pulled out of his trance of admiring the scenery, Mitchell arced his head slightly to meet Luke’s eyes.

“Yes?”

Um.

Okay, so he forgot what he was gonna say. Happens to everyone all the time.

Mitchell raised an eyebrow in question, sincere curiosity etched into his face. God, if he only knew what Luke was thinking. He’d probably fall off the rock again, willingly this time, welcoming more broken bones, just to get away.

“Thanks for tonight.”

“Oh, hey, no problem.” he half smiled, “Actually, I feel like I disappointed you. Day one of bonding and I forget my wallet. Nice, right?”

“You didn’t.” Luke said quickly, “Disappoint me - I mean.” he finished, keeping his eyes on the scenery beneath them. The trembling tree branches, whistling leaves, the depth of the pulsing darkness. The Earth was alive, breathing, he just never realized how beautiful it could be.

“Are you sure? Because I think this night definitely qualifies as disappointing.” 

“I’m not that hard to please. Give me a giant lollipop, I’m pretty much set.”

“Glad to know your standards were met, then.” Mitchell joked, looking up at the stars.

“Besides,” Luke shifted, daring to casually scoot closer but desperately hoping not to reach the ‘too weird’ line, “This is only day one, right? Out of how many we’ve got ahead of us?”

“I see you inherited your dad’s optimism. But you’re right. Can’t wait to get pulverized by paintballs.” 

“I’d rather be pulverized by thousands of paintballs than go back to school on Monday.” Luke groaned, suddenly remembering the term paper on snail shells he was supposed to do. He wondered if he could pay Alex to do it; even just writing fifteen minutes of it would be infinitely better than what Luke would produce with six hours time.

“Are you playing Prince Charming this time?”

Luke rolled his eyes, “They only wish.”

Comfortable silence overcame the moment. Surprisingly comfortable. Until Mitchell spoke seconds later.

“You’re going to that spring fling dance or - whatever it’s called.”

Confused, Luke shot him a look. “What?”

“Yep,” Mitchell nodded, “It’s been decided.”

“That’s funny, I never got to cast my vote.” Luke said defiantly.

“Overruled.” Mitchell shifted his entire body to face Luke. Oh, god. Was this going to be one of those talks? Luke could handle a lot of things but he drew the line at talking. Besides, there were way too many dangerous things on his mind - who knew the kind of crap he'd spew if given the chance.

His uncle wore a soft expression, almost like Luke was fragile and he was trying not to break him.

“I’m kidding,” he started, “It’s completely up to you. I’m just saying - you shouldn't not go just ‘cause you think it’s lame. Probably thought being in that play was lame. Until you liked it, right?” he asked rhetorically. 

Luke sat in pensive silence.

“I’m not wearing a tux.”

“And why not? It’d look good. You could be the next James Bond.” Mitchell offered, trying to sway him. Sad to say, it was kind of working.

But what was the point? It’d only get Claire on her rockers, then there was the whole finding a date thing...those two alone were enough to dim the horizon.

Then, Luke saw the thin glimmer of hope shimmering, a small silver ribbon sashaying around his mind.

“Okay.” he said slowly, “Only if you help me get ready for it. I can barely pick out my own socks.” he admitted, realizing how embarrassing that actually sounded only after he said it. Trying to soften the blow, he then added, “Department stores confuse me.”

But Mitchell was too busy attending to his genuine awe that Luke would ever even ask him this. Even if he happened to be one out of the two gay uncles in the family, everyone always went to Cam for advice on things, So, this - this was a little fresh to him.

“Me? You want..me?”

Luke felt his cheeks flush; good thing it was dark. 

_ Why’d you have to put it like that? _

Luke only nodded, adding with a soft voice, “Yeah.”

“Oh. Oh, of course.”

“Cool.” Luke grinned. He was having a good time, despite earlier events. But it’s also been nothing but confusing to him. He really, really wanted to know what it’d feel like to lean into Mitchell, lay his head on his chest, breathe in his cologne that smelt more delicious by the second. He didn’t even need to kiss him. Just touching him would be okay.

He was sick, okay, he realized that. God, but it didn’t even feel wrong.

“One more thing.” Luke mentioned, “Let’s wait as long as we can before we tell my mom.”

“Mm,” Mitchell hummed, getting up, “Most certainly.” He turned to Luke, offering a hand.

Luke eyed it before clasping his hand with Mitchell’s.

 

~

 

“Here we are, sir. Dunphy manor.” the passenger door unlocked. Luke stepped out of the car, glancing at his home before turning towards the waiting car. He poked his head through the rolled down window space. Mitchell squinted into the darkness in order to get a better look at Luke.

“So when’s that dance of yours again?”

Luke leaned his arms on the car’s window frame, “Two weeks.”

“Oh, good, that’s plenty of time to plan.” Mitchell said thoughtfully. “Crap, hold on. Almost forgot.” he piped, parking the car and unbuckling his seatbelt.

Luke’s eyebrows crinkled.

Opening the trunk, Mitchell crawled out of the car. Seconds later, he walked around the car to Luke. In hand, a red sweater.

“Haley.” Mitchell explained simply, “Been in my car for months, always seem to forget.”

Reaching for it, their hands brushed together, which, to Mitchell was probably nothing, but for Luke...well. He moved his hand away quickly, though, smoothing the sweater down nervously with one of his palms.

Luke didn’t know what to say but he felt he had to say something. Anything.

Why did Manny have to be the one good with words?

“Had a good time, Uncle Mitchell.”

Mitchell smiled, genuinely, happy to’ve reached through to someone he thought unreachable; even if it  _ was _ through breaking the law. 

“Let’s just, let’s just not tell your mother about the terms in which we left the restaurant, or anything else, actually, for that matter.”

“If she knew what we did, I’d be in as much trouble as you.” Luke admitted.

“I highly doubt that.” Mitchell sighed. “Till next time, then?”

It was impulse, what happened next. And Luke was all about impulse.

He slid close and drew Mitchell into a hug, softly breathing as much of him in as he could.

“Yeah,” he breathed hastily in response.

“Oh,” Mitchell chimed in surprise to the embrace, teetering slightly. It was a somewhat startling gesture, coming from Luke. In a family of huggers, both of them were always a little far from that. Must have come from Jay. 

He hugged Luke back cautiously at first, as if hugging was almost alien before becoming more sure and wrapping an arm around his nephew’s broadened back.

Luke had to admit, for a second, he forgot where he was; all he knew was that he wanted to fall asleep in the cradle of his uncle’s neck.

_ Was he taking too long? How many seconds do hugs usually last, anyway? Oh god, he forgot. Standard hug protocol, how could he forget? _

He didn’t want to let go, but playing it safe seemed like the much more obvious option. So he did.

Suddenly, he felt like a twelve year old girl standing in front of her crush. Might as well be.

“Right, well, see you around.” Luke said abruptly, not waiting for a response, but, instead, swiveling around and shuffling for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...you made it down to here ?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slushy anyone ?

How many times Luke replayed that video of young Mitchell - he can’t really say. Because he kind of lost count.

        He originally planned on returning the camera as soon as humanly possible. But, as soon as humanly possible turned out to be Tuesday afternoon. Waiting never was his strong suit, so the weekend was rough. Especially after Friday night passed.

        Running the evening through his mind again and again, he still couldn’t believe he gave in to the dance so easily. It was his fault anyway, it’s not like Mitchell put in much of a fight considering he specifically said it was Luke’s decision. Luke was definitely going to say no way, but then he remembered how good it felt to laugh with Mitchell and to see him laugh. To see him in a different light. And maybe also just to see him. He sort of wanted more of that so when he saw a fleeting chance, he grabbed it. Now, he had the dance to look forward to...well, at least the time leading up to it.

        Back to the camcorder shoved inside his shoe.

        Luke tried to hold back from even touching it, he really did. Friday was no help at all. He came home that night with a smothered smile and an inkling of frustration, if you catch that drift. So, he gave in, went to quote unquote ‘bed’, locked his door and slid out of his pants as soon as he turned around.

        He usually never fucked himself more than four times a week; by that night he was already up to his seventh.

Once he pulled the camera out, he was in a different world. A world where it was perfectly normal to fantasize about your uncle without ridicule or judgement. It was a world with understanding, not just from everyone else but also from himself. It wasn’t like this was easy for him. He wanted to feel like any other person would feel about the whole situation but he just couldn’t. It wasn’t like he’d always been this way, dreaming about relatives - nothing like that. Luke really didn’t know what sparked this freaky interest. Most people would’ve jumped out of their skin, finding a video like that. What does Luke do? Unconsciously shoves the camera down his pants and touches himself at the thought of Mitchell’s lips on his neck. Mitchell’s lips everywhere.

He couldn’t get over the exact moment Mitchell became undone. Every time Luke immersed himself once more, he found it harder to hold on. That Friday, after he’d gone to ‘bed’ and slipped under the covers, bare and hardening, he found it way way more difficult to hold on. He watched what he’d already replayed many times, getting into it once more, except this time it felt different. More real.

Luke’s legs trembled as the pleasure spiked through his veins.

What would it really be like? To have Mitchell under him, calling his name, clutching his shoulders shakily, arching his body against Luke’s…

Luke bit the inside of his lip hard.

Suddenly, Mitchell’s voice rang clear in his mind,  “Me? You want..me?”

Luke groaned loudly, hoping in the back of his mind no one heard him. He was coming. Hot white streaks stained his abdomen.

“Fuck.” he groaned again, pumping the last of himself, “Yeah. I really do.” he flushed and sighed.

 

~

 

        Cam leaned back on the couch to get a better view of Lily’s head; Lily, who was currently sitting in her father’s lap with a deadpan expression, one that said she’s been in this position too many times. Cam cradled the chopsticks between his fingers, flipping another portion of Lily’s hair to the opposite side. He squinted.

        “Cam, I already told you, she doesn’t have lice, anymore.” Mitchell commenting, already used to his husband’s exaggerated nature. “The school nurse checked her twice and so did I.”

        Cam’s head shot up, “You can never be so sure, Mitchell. We are not going to relive what happened last time, oh no, sir.” he gritted determinedly, shifting his view towards his daughter’s scalp once more. It was actually a hilarious view, from where Mitchell was sitting; Cam wearing a neon green swim cap for extra preliminary cautions.

        Mitchell just rolled his eyes, leaning back on the couch and shooting Lily a sympathetic pout.

        “Cartoons?” he asked, trying to lighten her spirits.

        Lily simply took the remote from his hand, flipping to Cartoon Network immediately while her father continued his search.

        Leaning back, Mitchell loosened the blue tie around his neck, already annoyed by the long day back at work but happy to finally be home. The weekend went by pretty fast after Friday night. Most of it was taken up by the big case he had been working on, which was actually a pretty interesting case; an interesting case that consequently kept him home most of Saturday and Sunday. He didn’t even really get a chance to talk to Cam and now that he did, his husband was busy sporting a swim cap and sliding chopsticks through their daughter’s head.

        “So,” Cam chimed, “How was the presentation?”

        Mitchell stared at the talking animals hitting each other on the television, “Fine. Everyone used the time to catch up on sleep, the usual.”

        “Oh, honey, you know it’s not you. Sometimes all that legal stuff’s kind of, you know, just -”

        “Boring?”

        “Well,” Cam muttered sheepishly, “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

        “You would and you have.”

        “I said it lacked excitement.”

        “I’m pretty sure you just defined boring.”

        “Nevermind that, then. How was Friday night with Luke? You never did say how that went.”

        Mitchell was suddenly running out the restaurant door again, clinging to the snug grip Luke had on his hand and picturing pale helicopter lights tracking the soil for any trace of them. That was what he remembered.

        “It was good, we ate burgers.” Mitchell said, deciding to go vague.

He really didn’t want to go into the whole dining and dashing part, convincing himself it was because Cam would scold him, which he probably would but never too harshly. Really, it was because he’s never done something like that in his life. Sure, little things, like napping a cashew from the nut barrel at the grocery store but never actually anything so unlawful. That’s not to say he didn’t revel in every second of it. For Luke, it seemed like just another day. It both frightened and thrilled Mitchell, to the point where he simply wanted to keep this little memory to himself. Himself and Luke. Some candy was too sweet to share.

He thought quite a bit about Friday night throughout the weekend. He never figured, even from the beginning, that he’d be able to reach Luke, not in the way he had with his nieces and Manny. But then there he was at the end of the night, pulling Mitchell into a sudden embrace. Of course, it surprised him. He may not be close to Luke, but he did know him. He wasn’t exactly known for his hugs.

“Actually, a little weird,” he added, deciding to hear Cam’s take on it, “You know how I said he’d probably be distant the whole night?”

“Yes?”

“He wasn’t. Not so much. He was actually talking, you know. Confiding in me.” Mitchell awed, thinking about it all over again. “I think I got to him, Cam.”

“I told you, you would.” Cam smiled, “Luke’s easy. Give him an extra large bag of Doritos and you automatically win. You saw what he did to that plate of cookies. There were  fourteen  of them, Mitchell.”

Mitchell hummed in response, remembering Luke saying himself how easy he was to please.

But it wasn’t just about pleasing, it was about getting to know him. And Mitchell thought he ended up doing a pretty good job at that.

“He hugged me, too.” Mitchell commented, “Really hugged me. I don’t think I’ve even seen him hug Claire like that.”

“He’s probably going through something, maybe he can’t talk to Phil about it for whatever reason and now, he has his generous, loving uncle letting him know he’s there for him. He is a teenager, Mitchell. They’re all headless chickens at that age, running around, looking for their heads. We should know.”

“Yeah,” Mitchell muttered in agreement, rationalizing. “I guess so.” he said, remembering Luke wanting his help with getting ready for the dance (the dance Mitchell insisted he go to, something he didn’t actually think Luke would agree to). He wanted to tell Cam but remembered his promise not to reveal it just yet. To Claire, specifically, but if he told Cam right now, it’d all be over anyway.

        So he stayed quiet and let the thought pass.

 

        ~

        Tuesday finally reared its head. Luke stuffed the camera as far as he could into his backpack, hidden away between smudged assignments mixed with crumpled candy wrappers. He finds himself to be a little anxious and maybe just slightly bummed he has to say goodbye to the camcorder, or rather, younger Mitchell. They sure had some good times in the confines of his blankets. But he had to do this. At the very least, to keep his sanity intact.

        Soon enough, it was the end of the day. Luke skated his way to his uncle’s house, thankful it wasn’t too far from school.

        Kicking off his skateboard, he strode up to the door, certain there was a key hidden around somewhere, knowing his uncles.

        “Ahah,” Luke beamed, pulling a silver key from under one of the potted plants.

        He walked in slowly, wanting to make sure no one was really home. Seemed like Manny was right. Luke turned, making sure to close the door right.

        “Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Okay, someone  was  home.  Abort.  “but how did you get in?”

        Luke turned in time to see Mitchell, arms crossed, leaning against the hallway entrance.

        “You left the door open.”

        “No, I didn’t.”

        “Then how did I get in?” Luke countered, not breaking a sweat. His backpack suddenly felt very heavy.

Mitchell’s eyes narrowed, “You tell me.”

“I walked in through the front door. Because it was open. That’s really unsafe, by the way.”

“That’s impossible, I always lock it.” Mitchell protested, then his expression softened into subtle confusion, “I do. At least, I think I do. I…” he snapped out of it, turning his eyes to Luke’s, “I guess I forgot today.” he concluded, still confused.

“Guess so.” Luke muttered. Fuck, how the hell was he supposed to put it back now? Wait another week? Another week of torturing himself with a video he was never supposed to see in the first place. A video that confused the ever loving hell out of him.

“So, watcha need? It’s just me right now, Cam’s out with Lily.”

Ummmmm.

Fast on your feet, Dunphy.

“You’re kinda who I wanted to talk to.”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the dance..” Mitchell guessed.

“No. I actually, just -” Luke scratched the back head, scanning his brain for a reasonable excuse. “Can you teach me how to dance?”

Mitchell eyebrows rose.

“I sorta suck at it, so I thought -”

“Of me? Really?”

“Yeah. I was gonna ask my dad but he’d probably get more excited than my mom so, uh - yeah. If you don’t want to, it’s -”

“What’re you talking about, of course I want to. Just thought you’d ask Cam first is all.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not my favorite uncle. Don’t tell him that, though. Seriously.”

Mitchell flushed a sheepish smile, “Oh, please. Stop with your jokes.”

Luke smiled back, “That wasn’t a joke.”

“Right, well, if we’re gonna do this, you have to get serious. Dancing is a commitment. Get over here.” Mitchell said resolutely, planting himself stiff behind the couch.

“Now?” Luke blurted. Last time he was that close to Mitchell he wrapped him in an embrace that caught both of them by surprise.

“Isn’t that why you came over here? I was just going to catch up on extra work but since you’re here now, might as well.”

“Right, yeah.” Luke answered, setting his backpack next to the door and stalking over to Mitchell.

Mitchell immediately grabbed Luke’s hand and placed it on his lower waist, the other on his shoulder.

“Since I’m the girl in this scenario, this is basically where your hands are going to be. Got it?”

Luke nodded.

“If you guys are really into it you can always,” Mitchell grabbed Luke’s hand on his shoulder and moved it on the other side of his waist, “Use both hands.” he advised, wrapping both of his own hands around Luke’s neck.

Totally bug eyed, Luke wondered just what the hell he got himself into. He let out a silent hot breath as he tightened his hands around his uncle’s waist.

“Hey - paying attention? You’re lucky I’m not charging you for these lessons.” he joked.

“Good, I’m broke, anyway. Unless you take Monopoly money.” he said, trying to take the edge off his whirling thoughts.

“Now,” Mitchell continued, “You’re going to be leading, alright? Here, watch me, I’ll lead this first time.” He said, placing his hands on Luke’s waist. Luke got the gist, moving his own to his uncle’s shoulders.

Here’s the thing: he knew how to dance, quite well, actually. Phil had taught him a few things when he was in middle school, along with Claire who insisted Luke dance with her around the house for practice. That was before the last dance he went to. You can see why it was his last.

So, Luke followed his lead, stepping softly on his toes certain moments to follow his lie through.

“Okay, yeah.” Mitchell stepped back, “You might need some work.” he said, pushing the couches slightly away for more room.

Fourteen minutes passed. Luke proved just how much of a fast learner he could be, getting most of what his uncle taught him in no more than six minutes.

Luke, keeping it together, was having a hard time doing just that as he twirled and stepped around the living room, Mitchell literally in his arms. It was too surreal. Almost too much. But if this past week taught him anything, it was how to keep his cool. So he learned again what he already knew in dancing, and tried not to focus too long on how good Mitchell smelled, on the things he wanted to do.

Mitchell’s ocean eyes lit up, “Better. Much better. You’re learning.”

“You know what could help?”

“Hm?”

“Music.”

        Mitchell’s mouth opened a little, suddenly noticing they were dancing to the silent stir of the dishwasher in the background.

“You may be onto something.” Mitchell said, swiping the stereo remote lying on the kitchen counter. “I’m not exactly sure what they play at high school dances these days…” he trailed off, back facing Luke as he twisting a knob on the stereo, “We’re probably gonna need something slow.” he murmured. A few seconds later, the song finally began.

Mitchell turned to Luke once more, expectantly.

Luke looked up at him, the song faintly familiar.

He stretched out a single hand before smirking jokingly, “May I have this dance?”

Raised brow, Mitchell took it, warm palm radiating against Luke’s.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you  
        It's strange what desire will make foolish people d o

        Situating his hands once more on his uncle’s waist, he slid them slowly down to the spot they were at before, getting a little too into the song. Maybe music wasn’t that good of an idea.

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you  
        And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you

Leading Mitchell away as they danced, Luke had to admit, he was a pretty good dancer; if he didn’t feel completely indifferent about it he might’ve considered learning more. Dancing, he cared nothing for, but who he was dancing with changed his perspective for the time being. He felt connected. Jeez, he sounded like Manny.

Then he remembered where he knew the song: Manny had it as number four on his broken heart playlist. A playlist he listened to quite often.

No, I don't want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)

Everything felt so much slower, Luke could do nothing but let his body move, trusting it for the first time in a week. They swayed around the living room in what seemed like swirled motions. Luke, keeping his eyes steady on his uncle’s shoulders, didn’t have the guts to look him in the eyes.

“You know, when you’re dancing with her you should probably stare soulfully into her eyes. That always gets them.” Mitchell advised playfully.

Luke, snapping out of it, looked up, seeing the ocean once more. He gulped, smiling.

Mitchell smiled back, slightly puzzled.

What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way  
        What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you

Luke whirled them around, swiftly.

He knew, knew in the bottom of his strange, strange heart that nothing would ever flourish from the soil of these futile feelings. The man in front of him, the one he was holding, knew nothing. And he’d never  know, because that would ruin everything . But Luke knew. Even if it meant hiding it forever, even if it meant absolutely nothing.

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you  
        It's strange what desire will make foolish people d o

Luke could hear his bones pulsating. He gripped Mitchell tighter, pulling him in closer in a sudden movement. Trusting his body may have been a bad thing. Glancing up at his uncle, Luke saw him gape the slightest bit. But he didn’t let it register, he couldn’t, because, the next second he was grabbing Mitchell’s hand and swinging him around so that his body was side by side with Luke’s, connected only by palms, before Luke pulled him back lightening quick, dipping him.

I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)  
        No, I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)  
        With you

        Licking his lips, he stared down at Mitchell, enclosed in his arms, staring right back at him, cheeks flushed. Luke blinked. Okay,  now  it was registering.

        It was Luke’s turn to gape now.

        Seconds passed. Not daring to move, they stayed how they were, Mitchell dipped under him in quiet shock. Luke could only stare, hoping Mitchell would break their silence the song thankfully filled, because he completely lost any sense of vocabulary.

        The song ended just then.

        “I think maybe that’s enough for today.” Mitchell swallowed.

        Luke nodded hurriedly, pulling Mitchell up.

        His uncle turned, fixing his folded shirt.

        “What - when -  where’d  you learn to do that?” Mitchell asked incredulously.

        Luke’s heart was pounding. He ran a hand through his hair, “See it in like, every movie. Thought I’d see if I could do it. Guess I can.” Luke's just lucky he didn't try to Dirty Dance him.

        Mitchell huffed out a short breath, looking at his nephew like he was a complete mystery.

        “Yeah, that was - okay. Definitely do that.”

        Luke half-smiled sheepishly.

              Mitchell nudged him, “Feeling dangerous?”

       ~

 

              Mitchell looked at the blue slushy in his hand as if it were an old enemy.

              “How exactly are slushies dangerous?” Luke asked, making holes with his straw in the cup of red slush he was holding.

              “Are you kidding? These things are lethal.” Mitchell proclaimed.

        Luke eyed his uncle doubtfully, “If you say so.”

        They were in Mitchell’s car parked outside a 7/11.

        Glancing at his nephew, Mitchell thought for a second, remembering what Cam had said about Luke going through something he couldn’t talk about. It was an odd theory, considering it was Luke, but Mitchell couldn’t deny the definite possibility. Adolescence is a rough stage, he learned that first hand. Growing up gay, short and sarcastic wasn’t exactly the jack of all trades. He spent most of his childhood suppressing his thoughts - sacrificing most of who he was for people that liked to pick away at him simply because they didn’t get it - and if there was one thing he knew - people loved to hate what they couldn’t understand.

        But Luke wasn’t gay . Or…?

Who knew? More importantly, what did it matter?

He didn’t have to be gay for Mitchell to be there for him; whatever it was, Luke was reaching out, that much he could tell, and Mitchell would damn well be there for him. Never would he let anyone feel as alone as he did, not if he could help it.

        So he’d help Luke get ready for the dance, and teach him what he wanted to know.

        Besides, it wasn’t all one sided.

        Luke taught him things as well.

        Ever since their little misdemeanor at the restaurant, Mitchell couldn’t kick the anxious crave for that adrenaline he felt running out the door that night. He felt the kid inside him stirring about. The kid that never truly got the chance to breathe, let alone actually feel what it was like to do normal kid stuff.

        It wasn’t that he never tried - when you’re a child your only wish is to fit in, to be normal -, it was that he hated being pushed, which, incidentally, is most of what his childhood consisted of; Jay, pushing him to join a sport; hockey, soccer, even tennis for godsakes, and getting frustrated when he refused. Claire, taunting him, whining at him to  stop being such a scaredy cat and roller blade through the damn tunnel already ; his own mother slurring drunken promises to  fix  him while he helped her reach the toilet safely. It was constant; a constant plea to conform. It made Mitchell sick. He was who he was. So, he shoved all their expectations away just to spite them.

        Except, with Luke, there were no expectations. Luke took him as he was, however he was, without judgement.

Especially now married to Cam whose emotional needs could be quite a handful at times, it was refreshing, really. Not to be needed or expected of things. But to sit, and just enjoy the now. It was something Mitchell never really got to taste; now that he did, he found he quite liked it.

“Fun fact: It’s been twenty three years since I last tried one of these.”

        “Shut up, no way.”

        “Yes way. Very way.”

        Luke smirked, “Story time?”

        Mitchell swirled his straw around, nodding.

        “There was this game we used to play, well - your mom would mostly play it . Th ey called it brain dead. The objective is obvious, right: drink until your brain freezes, brain dead, whoever’s brain dead first loses. Anyway, your mom was the champ.”

        “ My  mom?”

        “Beat everyone on the block, and you can forget about modesty. That was never one of her finer traits.”

        “She beat you, too?”

        “She annihilated me. Why do you think I haven’t touched one of these things in over two decades?”

        Luke laughed, “Why now?”

        Mitchell paused, searching for an answer. He shrugged, “I suppose beating her son would count as excellent retribution.”

        “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

        “If we’re still talking about slushies, yes.”

        Luke narrowed his eyes, “I really hope you’re ready to lose.”

        “That’s a bold statement, Dunphy.” Mitchell challenged, raising a brow and drawing the straw to his lips. Luke did the same.

        The moment that ensued unraveled some of the biggest brain freezes each of them have had in their entire life. They weren’t even sure who won, both too busy clasping their hands on the side of their faces and groaning in agony.

        “Bad idea, bad idea.” Mitchell moaned.

        Luke looked constipated from his head, pulling at his hair in rapid movements, “I won.” he murmured, “I so won.”

        Mitchell rubbed at his temples maniacally, “Oh, nobody likes a sore loser.”

        “Sore  winner .” Luke groaned, now rubbing his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments, wow. didnt think I'd actually have readers.  
> u guys are so nice


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooo sorry for being that author. I don't even have anything to say except that time got the better of me and I'm a procrastinator that never takes the time to finish things. Like that guy from Jimmy Neutron that never finishes anything lol but believe me. i didn't forget about this story. I actually put a lot of work into it and am determined to finish it. Yay Mitchell and Luke.
> 
> Again, I do not own these characters, this is all fictional word play.

The rest of the week was a warm blur. Mitchell invited him over a few days later after school to finish their dance lesson, a short final one, before he thought Luke was ready.  
         

Eventually, it got to the point where they couldn’t hide it anymore. Claire found the dance tickets he so stupidly shoved inside his jean pocket, forgetting to dig them out before handing in his laundry basket. She was over the moon, rambling, debating hurriedly to herself about what he should wear, whether he should borrow one of his father’s suits. It wasn’t until Luke cut her off, telling her Mitchell’s plan to help him get ready, which surprised Claire, who knew how her brother could be. It also pained her a bit to know Luke didn’t come to her, but was happy Mitchell was obviously following her advice and giving Luke a chance. So she agreed to lay low, but the gleam in her eyes never dwindled after that.   
   

Mitchell took care of everything, having a friend who worked at a very high end bridal shop, he took Luke that Saturday to size him up, the dance being the next upcoming Friday. Even though Luke wasn’t too fond of dances and their formal arrangements, he found he kind of liked dressing up, seeing how slick he looked staring at himself in one of those bridal shop mirrors with platforms.   
      

“The name’s Bond.” Luke adjusted his tie.   
       

 Mitchell looked up from his complimentary mimosa, sitting on a white velvet chesterfield couch. Eyes lighting up, he nodded, “That’s the one. That’s it, 007.”   
     

Monday came around. Luke decided if he was putting his uncle through this much trouble, he might as well try to find a date. It was just, Luke, lately, really hadn’t been thinking about girls. Most of the time, he was trying not to think about anything; hard, with all the things going on. Hard, with Mitchell basically always there. But Luke asked for this. And he didn’t regret it. Weirdly enough, they were growing fond of each other. When they weren’t looking for the perfect shoes or ferociously sock shopping, which, incidentally, was a thing, Mitchell took the time to treat Luke to food, this time checking for his wallet more than three times, just to ease the ocd slowly growing inside him. Luke even managed to drag Mitchell to the movies to watch Jurassic World; frightening for Mitchell, who had a deep uneasiness when it came to dinosaurs.   
     

“Didn’t that just change your life?” Luke breathed, stepping out of the movie theatre,  “We need dinosaurs back.” he said, picturing himself as a pterodactyl.   
     

“They literally made an entire trilogy explaining all the reasons why that would be a terrible idea.”   
     

Luke figured he didn’t need the prettiest date, just someone to go with him. Maybe he was kidding himself, maybe Mitchell was right, maybe he’d have a great time at the dance, ‘fall in love’, maybe this would make him forget the guilt and shame coated lust he’s been feeling ever since he found the camcorder, which was still at the bottom of his backpack, a place that remained quite untouched. Luke worried about that - he still took it out some nights, enjoying himself, which didn’t take very long, before the remorseful shame set in. He planned on stopping by the next day, Tuesday, to see if he could actually pull off putting it back this time, hoping Mitchell wouldn’t decide to stay home once more, but Phil begged him to attend a downtown juicing festival they held once a month near Jefferson Park. He couldn’t say no, especially with his father still sporting a sprained ankle. Ultimately, Luke decided to keep the camera lodged at the bottom of his backpack in hopes that soon, maybe an opportunity would arise to swiftly place it back where it belonged.   
       

 After fifth period, Luke managed to convince Roslyn from Spanish class to go to the dance with him. She agreed on the condition that he buy her dinner, pay for the pictures and rent a limo. Luke didn’t know about that last one, yet nonetheless, he agreed, deciding to cross that bridge when he got to it.   
     

Eventually, the news had spread throughout the family, coming up Wednesday night as they all gathered around for Manny’s Italiano night he was hosting to celebrate his presidency of the Garden Club, using fresh herbs and tomatoes they grew themselves to cook the dishes.

 Luke rolled his eyes at Alex and Haley’s teasing along with Manny’s incredulous expression and dealt with the reactions of his family with dignity, knowing it was inevitable. There was his father’s doey eyes and Claire’s gleaming ones. Gloria patted his cheek, slurring something in Spanish Luke could only read as sweet. Grandpa only nodded in encouragement. Cam clapped enthusiastically as Claire revealed the news. Mitchell only sat silently, small smile as he drank away his wine. He simply raised a single brow, lifting his glass to Luke in a muted cheers.   
      

They asked for details, of course. Luke told them his date’s name was Rosalyn and kept it at that, despite Claire and Gloria’s insistence for more.   
    

Thursday night, Spring Fling Eve, Luke eyed himself in the mirror as he brushed his teeth for bed. He spit, rinsing, before popping his head up and narrowing his eyes at his reflection.   
    

 “You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me?” he shifted, narrowing his eyes at the mirror. “Then who the hell else are you talkin’ to?”   
     

He grinned, falling out of character, happy he totally perfected his Taxi Driver impersonation after so much practice.   
     

Jumping onto his bed after he got back from the bathroom, he pulled the blanket over his head, huffing out a long breath.   
      

The dance. It was tomorrow. He’d come home after school, eat, and head over to Mitchell’s.

Luke still didn’t know how he felt about any of it, he spent most of his time now ignoring the pit of his stomach, basically anything that involved feeling. He knew one thing, though. It was going to stop. These feelings were nothing but exactly that, so he came to the conclusion that this dance was, in fact, the best thing for him. He’d go, enjoy himself, maybe win Rosalyn over, make her his girlfriend, move on. He never thought it’d be this hard to.   
  

He even tried picturing himself with Rosalyn, kissing her, holding her. It was nice for a bit, but it didn’t stick. Besides, there was no anxious feeling. No butterflies.   
  

Tough luck, he’d have to look for them. They were there, they had to be.

 

~

 

He woke up to the sound of his father singing ‘Lady in Red’ at the top of his lungs, nothing unusual. Phil made sure to serenade Claire at least once a week. He took his song choices very seriously.

School went slow, slower than usual; probably because he couldn’t stop staring at the time. The numbers on the clock were crawling under his skin. Usually, he fell asleep to make the boredom fly faster but today was different. Today anxiety had him itching. He kept pondering all the different ways tonight could go. What if she thought he was too annoying? What if the date wasn’t fun enough? What if he stepped on her toes while they danced? Oh god, he was gonna hyperventilate right here in Biology, last period of the day, a.k.a the minutes that felt like days.

Finally, the bell that released all their chains finally rang. He could breathe again.

Running through the class door first (sure, he shoved a few people) and out into the fresh air he ran to the bike racks as fast as he could and picked out his skateboard from the crowd. He wasn’t desperate, okay? He just knew how Mitchell was about punctuality and he didn’t want to hear it. Besides, he didn’t even feel hungry yet (shocker)...so he decided to skip out on eating at his house, slung his backpack tightly on his back and hopped on his beautiful ride.

Truth be told, he was a little bummed. After tonight, he had no excuse to be seeing his uncle so often. Then again, this was good, wasn’t it? This is what he needed. God only knew, if Mitchell had any idea the things that have been roaming around Luke’s mind, it’d drive him over the edge and send Luke into very extensive therapy. Maybe he needed it.

Before he knew it, he was rolling his skateboard under his arm and walking up the driveway to the door, ringing it twice. Mitchell opened it right away with a bright smile that said there was lots to do. His uncle said nothing, simply yanked Luke by the arm into the house and rushed him into dropping his backpack on the couch’s arm and setting his skateboard along the wall.

“Great, you’re earlier than I expected. Way to exceed my expectations Dunphy, I believe I’m to thank for that.” Mitchell chimed, “Everything is ready for you.” he said excitingly, handing Luke a glass of orange juice. Luke chugged it in three gulps, ah-ing in satisfaction at the empty glass.

“You had orange juice ready for me?”

“Why do you even doubt me?” Mitchell joked, “Now, it’s about 3:25. What time does that dance start again?”

“7 but it’s a little dorky to be there right on time.”

“More like punctual?” Mitchell said, looking at Luke like he was a strange puzzle. “Anyway, the limo driver said he’d be here right at 5:30 so you can pick up Rosalyn and take her to dinner right from there.”

Luke nodded, “Where am I taking her again?”

“We went over this. You have reservations at Eros&Psyche at 6.”

“Right.” Luke nodded. “Where’s Uncle Cam?”

“Football game. Lily’s his assistant coach for tonight, then they have theatre night at the Marbella.”

“Theatre night?”

“Have you met Cam?”

“True.”

Oozing excitement, Mitchell scanned Luke head to toe, making Luke fidget where he stood. By the look on Mitchell’s face, thousands of neurotic ideas were spinning through his hamster wheel. Suddenly, his face dropped.

“Hold on,” he said pensively, “You skateboarded here.”

Luke nodded slowly.

“All the way from school?”

“Always do.”

Mitchell clutched his nephew’s chin and moved it to the side, exposing Luke’s neck.

“You’re sweating. Oh my god, I can’t send you to prom with a coat of filth.”

Luke laughed at his uncle’s words. A little sweat was nothing to him. In fact, it infused his natural manly odor.

“It enhances my smell. Besides, it’ll dry.” Luke said lightly.

His uncle’s eyes narrowed, “There shouldn’t be a smell. Trust me, the sweat won’t have a chance to dry once you shower it all out. Come on.” Mitchell waved his fingers for Luke to follow.

“But I showered last night.” Luke whined.

Mitchell shot him an incredulous look that said it all.

“You can shower in me and Cam’s room. The hallway bathroom is not in shape right now. There was an...incident...this morning.”

“O-kay…” Luke drew out in curiosity.

Unbelievably, he was actually about to shower in his uncle’s bathroom, where Mitchell himself also showered; meaning, he got naked. Wet. Soft.

He felt a soft nudge at his chest. Mitchell handing him a baby blue towel.

“Here’s a clean one. Be quick. I’ll heat up some leftover pasta from last night, sound good?”

Luke realized he was in his bedroom already. Again. This time, without the rushed anxiety that followed him the first time he had come in. Looking around, the room definitely seemed nicer to him. He didn’t exactly get a good look when he was here last.

“Hello? Anyone there? Time eats people alive, Luke. We have two hours and I still have to feed you.”

Luke snapped out of it, looking into the gleaming blue eyes in front of him. From one trance to another.

Stop it, he thought.

“Yeah, I’ll make it quick.”

“M’kay,” Mitchell said with a soft smile, “The shower knobs are easy, left for hot.”

“Got it.” Luke smiled back, turning away from his uncle and closing the bathroom door behind him in a manner of seconds.

Luke hopped in the shower, sighing with a smile as the hot water slid down his skin. He never appreciated how amazing showers felt. He even forgot for a second he was in Mitchell’s bathroom. And then it dawned on him...Mitchell took showers in here. He got naked and stood where Luke was standing, white soapy foam running down his body. Sadly, Luke’s torturous brain formulated that image so clearly, it kinda hurt. Before he knew it, there was a twitch somewhere between his thighs and his abdomen. A familiar twitch. Luke looked down to find someone had woken up. He groaned. Would this infatuation ever fade? After this ‘perfect night’ the healing process would begin. For now, though, a little fantasizing never hurt anybody…

Luke grabbed one of the many bottles closest to him. It read, ‘lush lavender body wash’ on the label. Popping the cap, he drew it close to his nose, inhaling the scent.

Damn, he thought, need to get me one of these bad boys.

Squeezing a small glob onto his left hand, he looked at his hardened cock and pictured a dripping Mitchell under him, mouth ready to take whatever Luke was willing to give.

That was all he needed to start pumping. Fuck, it felt so good. He pictured sliding his dick as far as he could go inside that ginger mouth… He hated to admit just how much he wanted Mitchell. Just to know what it was like to hear him moan in pleasure underneath him. Whenever he had fantasized about sex before all this, he always felt a layer of nervousness, being that he’s never been with anyone in his life. But when he fantasized about this, about his uncle, he felt a strange confidence. He felt unfamiliar dominance drip into his blood. Luke pictured holding Mitchell down, grappling him in a sort of agonizing passion and ramming in and out of him until they both cried out in pleasure -

And then, if it wasn’t just the most wonderful timing, the voice he’d grown so fond of chimed into his fantasy, “Luke? Luke, are you almost done? The pasta’s ready. You know how I get when I’m kept waiting. Another minute and I’ll come pull you out by the ear, the old fashioned way.”

“Fuuuck,” Luke gasped, “Cominggg” he choked out, both literally and figuratively, in reply to his uncle; you know, the one he was just envisioning himself fucking the fuck out of. This was a heavy load and it felt like more than he could handle. His knees jolted a little, weak by the frenzied orgasm.

He gave himself a few seconds to regroup before sighing and rushing to use the body wash the way it was meant. He washed himself and scrubbed all around for a quick thirty seconds with the sponge, then quickly shampooed before jumping out of the shower and drying himself in record time.

Luke was fresh and changed in no time, rushing to the kitchen and sliding along the wooden floors with the friction of his socks. Mitchell had his back to him as Luke garbled down the pasta, realizing that he was hungry.

“Pasta’s good.” he mumbled through a mouthful of linguine.

“Yeah, took the recipe off that cooking magazine Cam subscribed to months ago that he never actually reads. Figured somebody had to.” Mitchell reasoned, turning around to face Luke with a half a glass of water in his hand. He took a long sip.

Luke looked at him innocently, as if he hadn’t just came to the thought of Mitchell moaning beneath him.

“3:55” Mitchell quirked. Luke pretended not to notice his tongue laying on his lower lip pensively. “Just enough time to pick up your tux.”

“What, where's it at?”

“The cleaners…? What, you didn’t think I'd wash it here, did you? And mess up that fabric? I'm a lot of things, Luke, but I am not a savage.”

Luke raised his brows in curious defense, “There's so many rules to being fancy.”

“I'll print out a handbook for you later. Let's go.” Mitchell said, grabbing his keys off the counter.

The dryers was only about 25 minutes away. Mitchell thanked Madame Zhang, as she introduced herself to Luke, and told her he'd be back Sunday afternoon to pick up the rest of the load. The woman simply nodded with a warm smile.

“Okay, Stevan’s is just across the street. Now, I know I didn't call ahead but we go way back, you know, even before your Uncle Cam was in the picture and - well, let's just say he owes me one. Quite a few actually.”

Luke stood confused once more.

“Stevan?”

“He’s a hairstylist. Don't worry, he won't be cutting anything. Just gonna do something nice with those curls, make them look less like a jungle.”

Running a hand through his hair, Luke grinned, “The jungle is what kills the ladies.”

Mitchell’s eyes bulged in sarcasm, “Is that so?” he humored.

Walking into Stevan’s was like walking into a massage parlor. Luke was immediately offered a choice between a cup of tea, coffee or miniature bottle of sparkling water. He chose neither while his uncle picked up the water. “I need to speak with Stevan.” He said simply to the beverage lady, “Mitchell Pritchett.”

She nodded in a robot-like fashion and stalked off in the other direction.

“What is this place?” Luke asked, more to himself, as he looked around. The walls were porcelain ivory filled with the occasional golden frame of different models fluctuating her hairstyle. Each hairstyling station (about 15) were all shiny ivory platforms filled with golden hair brushes, scissors, hair dryers... All of them occupied by clients on their phones or sucked into a magazine; the rest sitting on the couch, obviously waiting for their turn.

“Mitchell, darling…” a boisterous voice dragged out from across the room. Luke’s eyes bounced around.

“Stevan.” Mitchell said in a cheerful tone.

“How dare you show your face here after being gone so long? I thought you were dead.”

“Not dead,” Mitchell chuckled awkwardly, “Just been a bit busy, you know, lawyer stuff.”

“I don't.” Stevan shook his head in amusement, “Now, who -” he paused for emphasis as he glanced Luke up and down, “is this? Are you still picking up strays, Mitchell? This one looks a little young but I'm sure he's very tasty.”

Luke’s eyes widened at the straightforwardness of the man in front of him. He swallowed in response at being clumped in with his uncle like that. Yes, he wanted to tell Stevan, he is his little stray.

“God, no.” Mitchell stammered, “He’s actually my nephew. Tonight's a big night for him. I know it's terrible of me to do this but, is there any chance you could fix this?” he asked, running a soft hand through Luke’s jambled curls. “His date starts in an hour. No cutting, just - make it nice, do your thing. I trust you.”

“You better. I suppose, today, I can make an exception on my no walk-in policy...for you, Mr. Pritchett.” Stevan smirked at Mitchell in a way that made Luke uneasy. There was obviously some sort of history here.

It didn't take long. Despite the weird vibe he got off ‘Stevan’, the guy actually knew how to style hair pretty nicely. He must know, he owns the place. It wasn't a major change, Stevan just used a special ‘hair glue’ he called white sunshine and a small golden comb to curve Luke’s curls in a way he never could have mastered himself. He really did look like some James Bond type, ready to pop a gun out the back of his jeans.

The entire 20 minutes it took to quickly wash and style Luke’s hair, Stevan made conversation with Mitchell. Asking how things were, why he hadn't been around as much, if he remembered the good old days, or that one day in particular (which made them both burst into giggles at the mention of the memory). Luke wondered who this Stevan once was to Mitchell. He wasn't just a friend. Luke could be a little airy but he wasn't stupid.

“There.” Stevan said, smacking his lips, “This hair glue is my special recipe, absolute magic, nothing will budge until you wash your hair again.”

“Wowww,” Mitchell awed.

Stevan smirked and rolled his eyes, as if he’d heard the praise a thousand times over.

“Don’t thank me. Just come by more often.” he said, leaning into Mitchell and plotting what sounded like the wettest kiss on his uncle’s cheek.

Luke couldn’t help fake coughing. He was so uncomfortable. Mostly due to this unearthly urge to punch this guy in the face.

Mitchell smiled, “We’ll go out for brunch soon.”

“‘Course, of course.” Stevan nodded, “I must go though, I have my current appointment waiting.” he said, rushing off without another glance.

Luke could see the red staining his uncle’s cheeks, causing Luke’s veins to heat up. How pathetic was he really? Seemed too much to tell.

He couldn’t help it.

“You’re not really going to brunch with that guy, are you?”

They were walking toward the car, close by, as Mitchell looked to Luke in question.

“It’s just a thing to say, really.” Mitchell answered, “Why?”

“I don’t know. He just… he was all over you.”

Of course, the red on his uncle’s cheeks spread further.

“He was not.”

Luke turned his head casually, rolling his eyes.

“Stevan was something of the past. Something that died a long time ago. Believe me, I’m entirely dedicated to your Uncle Cam.”

Right. Uncle Cam.

How could Luke forget about the actual husband, his own uncle?

Mitchell really thought Luke was bothered by the fact that this man could come between him and his uncle. When in reality, Luke was bothered by the mere thought of anyone touching Mitchell. Anyone that wasn’t him. How could that possibly be?

A part of Luke wanted to scream it out. The fact that he wanted him. There was no explanation, no logic, he had nothing to say except that these feelings just existed. He had no idea why but it scorched his blood.

 

~

 

“5:10” Mitchell observed as they entered the house once more. “Oh, look. A text from your mother.”

Of course.

She had already blown up Luke’s phone with a little more than 20 texts, demanding photos.

“Just says ‘PHOTOS’ in caps...” Mitchell read in monotone, “Oh god, another one. ‘I will have your head on a stick, glorified on my porch for all to see if I don’t get any -’ oh my god, could she be anymore barbarous, jesus.”

His mom seriously owned that crazy side sometimes.

“Honestly, there’s nothing left to do but change.”

Luke was out of the bathroom in 8 minutes, careful not to ruin his perfectly done hair as he traded his clothes for his tuxedo. All he had left was his burgundy bow tie.

Walking out into the living room, Mitchell rose from the couch he was sitting on in admiration, ultimately making Luke blush.

“You look -”

“Sexy?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sure.” Mitchell chuckled, “Very. If only I were younger and, you know, not related to you.”

Luke laughed in response but the butterflies in his abdomen were very real.

His uncle took the tie from Luke’s hand, grazing his skin, and wrapped it around the collar of Luke’s shirt.

“The cherry on top of a perfect sundae.” Mitchell mused softly, “Are you excited?”

His uncle was so close, Luke could breathe him in. Armani cologne. He knew because he had seen it sitting on the bathroom counter when he’d showered earlier.

“Kinda nervous,” he admitted, truthfully. And he was. This was the night he was determined to put these feelings to sleep and maybe gain some new ones.

“Don’t be. This girl, whoever she is, is lucky.”

Luke smiled softly. He couldn’t help not looking at his uncle’s face as he finished the workings of his bow tie.

“There.” Mitchell patted his tie, smiling up at Luke who had nothing but a blank, hopefully non-revealing stare.

“Thanks.” Luke mumbled. “For everything.”

“Are you kidding, I am humbled that you even asked me. Oh hey, wait -” Mitchell stalked off towards the kitchen, opening one of the drawers, “Cam bought Lily a bunch of these…” he muttered, taking out a disposable camera. “She leaves them everywhere, doesn’t even use them.” he said, arranging himself next to Luke. “May I have the first photo of the night?” he asked, holding the camera up.

Luke took it out of his hand and held the camera up, pressing himself closer to Mitchell and clicking away. They even did the infamous fish face.

“Gonna print these out later. Extra copies for your deranged mother, of course.”

Luke laughed, rubbing at his cuffs.

“5:24. The driver should be here very soon.”

“Yeah.” Luke said nervously. “What if I forget how to dance? God, what if I step on one of her toes and it swells like a balloon? What if -”

“Okay, okay, okay, okayyyyy,” Mitchell stopped him right there, waving his arms for him to relax, “Calm down. None of that is going to happen, alright. Just, you know, be you.”

“What?” Luke’s eyes widened, “I definitely can’t do that.”

“You can, believe me. And if she’s worth it, that’s exactly what you need to do.”

Luke released the breath he had been holding. He needed this, to make something out of tonight. He was just so great at screwing things up, especially with girls. And tonight, when he didn’t actually want a girl this time…

Mitchell grabbed a hold of Luke’s bow tie and fidgeted with the sides, getting close to him once more.

“You’re gonna be fine.” he said softly.

Luke, in impulse, took hold of his uncle’s hand near his neck, stopping him.

Mitchell glanced up curiously, waiting for Luke to say something he clearly had stuck inside his throat. Except nothing came out of his mouth.

“I - uhhh” Luke rambled, “Can't believe I'm actually doing this. So lame.”

Mitchell rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Just then, a loud honk broke through the air. Mitchell gestured for them to go outside.

“What” Luke awed, open mouthed at the beautifully polished limo awaiting.

“I managed to convince the driver to leave one bottle of champagne in there, to ease the nerves. Just do me a favor, don't go crazy.”

Luke couldn't stop smiling.

“That's not a promise I can make.”

His uncle simply smiled, “Just have fun, okay.”

Luke couldn't help embracing Mitchell.

“So cool.” he muttered to himself as he opened the limo door in the back. He looked back at his uncle, smiling as a goodbye.

The driver started on the road in seconds time.

Driving away, Luke decided he made the right choice. He felt good. Sure, he wasn’t about to deny the raging urge to go back, sweep Mitchell off his feet and carry him to bed (oh god, now he was fantasizing cheesy movie scenes) but he accepted the fact that what he wanted to unrealistic and wrong. It was something that could never happen. That should never happen. Tonight was his opportunity to get himself out there, make himself worthy. He liked girls. Rosalyn was a beautiful one. After tonight, all the puzzling pieces he was struggling to put together would fall into place.

He spent the rest of the time staring out the window, feeling damn good to be the one inside the limo and not outside admiring it as it passed by.

They soon stopped in front of a pastel peach house with sculpted bushes and roses lining the sidewalk running to the door.

Luke took a deep breath, making sure to grab the rose corsage beautifully intact inside it's clear plastic box. Mitchell had picked it out.

Walking towards the front door, surprisingly, his nerves began to cool. He felt confident. He could do this.

Luke rang the golden bell, tapping his right foot. Rosalyn was beautiful, he couldn't believe she'd she yes.

20 seconds later a middle-aged woman with hair cut to her shoulders opened the door. Her mother, of course.

The woman gave Luke a confused face, looking him up and down.

“May I help you?” she questioned.

“Yeah, I'm here to pick up Rosalyn. For the dance tonight.” Luke offered his best smile.

Instead of calling her daughter and telling her that her date had arrived, the woman’s face scrunched into even more confusion, eyebrows crinkled and everything.

“Honey,” she said softly, “Rosalyn left with her date 15 minutes ago.”

Luke’s face went blank for a few seconds. He then shook his head, smiling, “No. She couldn't have. I told her I'd be here with a limo. I have reservations at a fancy restaurant. I even got her this thing.” Luke said, waving the corsage in the air.

Her mother clearly had no words to offer.

“...I’m sorry. I didn't - she really did leave 15 minutes ago. A boy named Jackson.”

Standing there, the past two weeks played through his mind like a movie. Everything led up to this moment. This pathetic, unreal, fucked up moment. This really was his life.

“Tell her I said thanks.” Luke bit off angrily, “And you can give her this. To always remember how good she is at playing people.” he said, handing her mother the corsage before stalking off towards the limo. Dateless.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

He couldn't believe it. Not even this, he was good for. Who was he good for then?

Frustration and anger seeped into his veins.

Inside the limo, the driver opened the slit and looked back at him in question.

“Park up that street there. I just need a few minutes.”

The driver simply nodded, no questions asked, before closing the slit and driving off.

Luke grabbed the golden wrapped champagne, popped the cork and started to chug.

           Fuck this.


End file.
